The Point Where You Can Return
by og0was0here
Summary: Christine starts having doubts about her feelings for Raoul, when she finds out one day that he has been sneaking behind her back. In sorrow, she goes back to the man who thought she was lost to him years ago.. My first phanfic so plz R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of The Opera. That lies solely in the hands of the genius mind of Gaston Leroux.

One year has gone by since the infamous phantom of the opera destroyed the Opera Populair. in these fateful twelve months, Raoul and Christine's wedding has been planned to take place in three months, a new opera house is being reconstructed out of an old bank and is almost completely finished thanks to rushed construction workers, and Madame Giry has taken ill and has been bed stricken since that night that Erik's heart was shattered. Christine, being forced to leave the opera house, came to live with Raoul in his mansion out side of the city.

Christine sat on the balcony of Raoul's and hers room watching the sun finally set under a dark blue and purple sky. Christine gazed, mesmerized, at the night as she began to shiver.

_Three months... An almost intoxicatingly nerve racking wait. I'll be bound to Raoul for an eternity before I know it, she thought carelessly. I wonder what might of happened if I had actually thought about Raoul's proposal. The opera house would of still been here today is for certain. If only I hadn't been caught up in the heat of the moment... He had been so romantic that I had just blurted out yes like a child would being offered candy! It doesn't matter though. I'm happy I said yes. I love him.. I think... Christine thought worriedly and alone. She sighed and than screamed when someone grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. _

"Raoul!" Christine gasped delighted to see him. "who did you think it was little lotte? a monster perhaps?" Christine kissed his cheek and rolled her eyes. "Come little lotte! Let your mind wonder about our wedding day. It's coming up too quickly and deserves some planning." Raoul cried taking her hand and leading her from the balcony. "Must we worry about it now? We've been planning it all day! I think we should rest, maybe have some fun?" Christine said pushing all thoughts from the balcony from her mind.

_What was I thinking? I love him and was too drunk with the sunset to remember, she thought kissing his neck. Christine breathed deeply and smelled soap as Raoul held her close easing into her hold._

He pulled her from his neck and kissed her lightly on the lips. He pulled away tiredly. "Maybe tomorrow... Today has been quite tiring. I promise you when all this wedding stuff is taken care of, we will have the whole day to ourselves to have fun" He said kissing her playfully on the lips.

"Alright my love." She sighed pulling away a little disappointed. She turned to her small closet where she began to undress for bed and once again, let her mind wander...

_Again! This is the 4th night he's refused. I know what he's up too.. trying to hold it off till we're married I presume. It is the proper thing to do, but who's to know if it is or not? it's not like we'll be performing in a crowd or something..she laughed quietly at herself for thinking something as stupid as that. if I was to know about this sooner, I would have told him to plan the wedding sooner. whatever, as he is my fiance, I respect his decision. or, he wants to save his innocence for the one he truly loves.. Christine thought with horror. _

Shakily, she slipped in to her night gown and slid under the covers. _That's not a very good reason though, otherwise why would he want to marry me? T' was a stupid thought. _she now thought._ I can be so naive sometimes.._ Raoul slipped into bed besides her and snaked his arm around her waist. "Good night my lotte. I love you." He whispered softly in her ear. Christine smiled and whispered back, "Good night. I love you too." Only

this night, she did not mean it.

Her heart wasn't in it as it always was and she knew. She lie awake for hours thinking about what she said. _I love you. I usually feel it in my heart when I say it. I love you. I don't feel that warmth... Maybe that's just how it is after a while... You say it, but your heart already knows it. Probably it.. It has to be. _Just in case, she thought about all the times with Raoul that she has been most happy and finally drifted off.

She dreamed of Raoul and her sitting in the Opera Populair in box 5 watching the play, Don Juan take place. the same play that Erik had created and starred in. The show that ended the Opera Populair. She stepped on to the stage and opened her mouth to sing, when she gasped, she wore no gown and was nude! Everyone laughed as she struggled to cover her body. she went to run of the stage but was being held down with cold metal heads of Raoul. Meanwhile, Raoul was laughing along with everyone else and pointing as well.

"Raoul! Help me please!" He looked at her with disgust and shook his head . Christine started to cry when suddenly Erik ran out to her. He wrapped his cape around her and stood in front of everyone's view. He tore off his mask and everyone burst in to flames! The screams of the damned echoed throughout the audience.

She looked up in to his stunning green eyes and spoke from the heart "Erik! I love you." Even in the dream she felt the warmth that she felt when Raoul held her only much more powerfully. She woke up with a jolt, the warmth vanishing from her mind. _Oh you've got to be kidding me! _


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: I hope you're enjoying this so far, I'll try to get the chapters out sooner… For my two reviewers I leave you red roses with a little black ribbons around them in appreciation (thank you!):**

**Tex110**

**Angel or Demon**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the phantom of the opera, but I wish I did.**

Chapter 2

"Goodbye my dear, I'm off to get bread for tonight." Christine planted a swift unnoticed kiss on Raoul's cheek. "mmhm.." he murmured fixing his hair. She pulled on a soft blue shirt and Blue skirt and went to grab money from the table when Raoul strode in. "Ah! Christine, I caught you before you left, now. I'm going to be out on business for the rest of the day, so if I'm not home before dinner, do not stress." He gave a pert wave than left her without any further details.

"Hunh? Raoul, wait!" He stopped and turned around, obviously irritated. "Yes Christine, what is it?" Huffed Raoul sullenly. "Where are you going, you said you had the week off?" Raoul played with a blonde curl for a moment than stated, "As a lady and future wife, I would ask you to stay out of my business affairs. Luckily for you though I am not as uncaring as some husbands, so I will tell you some since it would be unnecessary to tell you all the details... I don't think your pretty self would care about the architectural monstrosity anyways. I'm going to a bank at the other end of the city to discuss the way we will be building the new opera house." Christine frowned, offended by his tone that one might use with a stubborn child.

"Now Lotte, I will be leaving, Buh bye." He strode down the hall leaving Christine feeling a little aggravated and childish. _Why can't you treat me like an adult? You're not that much older than I. _She sighed and grabbed her cloak, walking out and saddling her favorite chestnut mare, Clover. She nuzzled his head, petting his ears, than hopped on making her way to the city.

"When will he realize that I am more than interested in the things he does? The things that usual high class woman do is incredibly dull, I mean, would you want to quilt, read dismal novels on romance, and tend to flowers?" She confessed to her quiet horse.

"The bad thing about our relationship is that I don't think my thick headed spouse will realize this quickly." Sighing, she looked up into the grey sky's. Letting Clover lead the way, she tipped her head back and let her mind wander. _I love you Raoul, but I need to feel like I've passed the age of 13...Erik probably would have treated me like I was…NO! I cannot let myself divulge in to this dangerous subject matter. My dreams try to deceive me in the most merciless of manners, trying to convince myself that I'm in love with him! _

They wound along a small path that led to a the entrance of the city. _Maybe it's not your dreams who deceive you, but yourself by denying the fact that Erik is still kept locked away in your heart. _Teased a nagging voice in the back of her mind. Closing her eye's she tried to argue with it. _If I was in love with Erik, I would have chosen Erik! _She told herself firmly while ridding to town on a chestnut mare named Clover.

_How could I be as stupid to even believe I did! Why I felt like I yearned for him when I left his lair is a mystery to me… Erik murdered the innocent and tried to kill Raoul. I could never love a man who gave so little thought to the lives he took. Her dark auburn curls bounced slightly, catching small rays of sun and reflecting them so she had an almost red glint in her hair. Not even Erik's voice would make me feel that way… She felt it then, a sharp pang in her heart, a pang of desperate longing. _

Her breath caught in her breast, she knew she lied to herself when she thought that love no longer existed for her fallen angel, although as stubborn as she was, she would never admit it. Her thoughts trailed off as she thought of Erik. Everything about him was a mystery to her, from his intoxicating voice, to his distorted face. She could almost hear him as she passed the ruins of her old life as a ballet dancer.

In fact, she did hear him! Faintly at first, but than as she drew closer, the musik of the night overwhelmed her, poisoning her decisions. Christine stopped clover mid-trot, listing to the notes that seemed to rise out of the blacked hell, which used to be her home. She felt her soul rise with the soothing words along with her racing heart. A warmth from deep down inside erupted and seemed to consume her in soft flames.

In a trance she walked Clover into the opera house listening and hanging on to every seductive note. _Such sorrow, so much pain.. _She left Clover at the door and walked deeper and deeper until she had reached the entrance to the phantom's lair. Standing outside the gate listening to Erik sing once again, she let her lids droop and arms fall to her side. Erik's booming voice echoed through out the tunnels, letting every melodic sound soak into her wilted soul. "I love you my angel…" She whispered to herself falling into his musik.

At this point, Christine was willing to admit that she had feelings for Erik. Though it was small, it seemed to be growing steadily faster by every sing-song word that Erik sang. Melting on to a rock, Christine let the beautiful musik slip itself in to a permanent spot in her heart. The last words of Erik's song faded from the ruined mass of charcoal building and an icy cold bit Christine ruthlessly in the gut. It spread through out her body, making small shivers dance up her spine.

Opening her big brown eyes, she realized where she was and muttered dark swears under breath. _What in gods name is wrong with me! Coming down here and staying! If Raoul were to find out, he would have my head on a platter… Fool! What if he had seen me? Of, god forbid he heard me…_her thoughts trailed back to the 3 fateful words she had said, her heart fluttering. _This time, he wouldn't have released me. Either that, or I'd have to lie and break his heart into a finer pieces. _

Silently, she made her way to Clover, who had busied himself with a area of rouge grass. _Why would you lie though, you love him, you know you do. _Said a little voice in the back of her head. Christine bit her lip bitterly, trying to deny the voice, but to no avail. Taking out her money, Christine stopped at the bakery for the bread she was to be picking up. Clover led the way back home, where Christine stumbled up and flung herself onto her bed. Within seconds, she had fallen into an uneasy sleep, the bread laying beside her small form.

She dreamt that she was soaring over the ocean, the sea breeze blowing her auburn curls wildly around as she stared delightedly at the sparkling blue water below. Great white angel wings spurted from her back moving gracefully through the clouds. Christine was twirling through the air when suddenly dark storm clouds rolled in and began pouring down dark heavy drops. It was exciting for her at first, gliding through the the heavy air, getting soaked to the bone, washing away her cares, when her wings that she was flying with became too wet too fly in and without warning, she began to plummet to the icy sea below.

"Help me!" She cried out to know one at all. With a loud splash, Christine hit the ocean surface and slowly began to sink. Flailing her arms this way and that, she looked for some way to reach the surface, losing precious breath by the second. Her now useless wings, were dead weights, pulling her down to the graves of the ocean. Raoul, in giant red bubble came by shaking his head in frustration and anger shouting.

"How dare you betray me! I loved you and you went back to Erik!" He glared, malice flashing in his usually calm eyes. "Raoul please! I didn't mean to, nothing happened! He didn't even see me, help me!" She tried to say but was not heard because of the water streaming down her throat.

Another bubble, this time blue in color, came up behind and engulfed her. Coughing and spluttering, the water that had leaked own into her lungs was now out. Looking up to see who her savior was, found herself gazing in to a pair of enticing eyes.

"Erik..." Christine breathed and found tears coming to her eyes. "My.. My angel.. Th-thank you. I-I.. Please forgive.." Erik silenced her with a soft, but cold finger to her lips.

"There is nothing to forgive, nothing to dismiss. Sweet Christine, I swear to you, I will always be there for you. Never would I let anyone harm you, I love you_." _He swept her up in a tight embrace, letting her tears fall and disappear into his shirt. Than, to her dismay, she woke up with a light headed, joyous feeling.

A smile edged at the corner of her lips, until it was a full grin. _That's it. I can't stand it anymore. I still love Erik. Though just a tiny bit. _A giggle escaped her lips as Raoul strode in. Raoul knocked at the door and came in. "Hello Christine! How are you on this fine day? Was that a giggle I heard?" He said all too cheerfully. Christine smiled and felt small pangs of guilt in her stomach,

"Hello, err.. You heard a giggle? Your mind must be playing tricks on you. What time is it?" Christine replied smiling. "Around 11:00 my dear, I was surprised to find you awake at such a time, it's not very lady like. Otherwise, I bring good news! I've become the new patron for the soon to be opera spectacular." he said proudly going to change. A strange scent, one of lavender and roses wafted through the air as Christine smiled happily, "Raoul, that's wonderful!"

She got up and gave Raoul a quick hug. She kissed his cheek and smelled it again, that bittersweet smell of too much perfume. Her heart sank and skipped a beat. _Was Raoul with another woman?_ Christine wondered miserably pulling away and going to her vanity where she began to brush her hair uneasily. _He couldn't be! He's not mainly enough to betray me. Although he is sweet and adorable, despite his long hair.. _(a/n: I'm sorry if this part makes some of you gag, but it needs to be like this) _He could get any woman he wanted. It's probably m imagination. He loves me and would never do that to me. _Grotesque scenes appeared in her mind of Raoul sleeping with another woman, touching her, kissing her. It sent horrid shivers down her spine.

Raoul began undressed and Christine watched him strip in front of the mirror. He was fairly muscular and very pale. He turned around unbuckling his pants and caught her staring. Grinning, he slipping on his pants calling softly "Hey! I saw that." Her blush deepened as he walked over and kissed her without feeling. Her paranoia fading, she started kissing his neck, sliding her hands over his chest. She tasted honey and something like flavored beeswax and pulled away gently looking at where she kissed.

Her heart lurched into her throat, at the sights of dark red lip stick all over his neck and parts of his chest. Insides rolling, tears stinging her eyes, she said the only thing she could think of, "I'll be right back, I'm feeling a bit queasy.." _There was another woman! _Christine's mouth went dry and her eyes grew heavier.

She flung herself out the door just as tears spilled down her cheeks. Tripping over steps, almost completely blinded by her tears and emotions, she made it to the gardens. Her chest heaved and she lay her throbbing head down at the bottom of a statue of a man and cried. _How could he do this too me! I gave him my heart thinking that he would treasure it and keep it safe, only to find it neglected for another! What is wrong with me? I tried to please him, but he denied me! He pushed me away, maybe he truly doesn't want me. He doesn't love me.. I'm just another one of his damned possessions! I can't marry him now. I refuse to be his doll to show off.. _she wept, deeply until finally her stomach could take it no more, and she vomited at the foot of the statue.

Her heart felt like it had been beaten and burned at the stake. Betrayal was the Armageddon for their innocent love, the strong passionate bound they had shared was eternally damaged. _I hate you Raoul.. Yet I love you so! Why do you continue to torment me with your horrid ways…I've lost hope for you, god I hate you! _She pulled away from the putrid smell of vomit to shiver and cry farther away.

The cold seemed to spread to her heart and freeze it over. _I can never trust him again. He doesn't love me. _She sat there thinking for a while until she returned back to reality. _What am I doing? Drowning in self pity? I must tell him that I know of his betraying ways.. Damned bastard, how could you! _The thought, the mere image of Raoul made her cringe in disgust.

A dull ache replaced the stinging feeling in her gut. In all of her life, she had never wished so badly to have someone hold her again, love her with passion and desire, treat her like she was more than a toy. _In the end, no one is there… _she bit her lip, closing her red eyes in anguish.

Blood now mixed with taste of bile, creating a abhorring, lingering flavor in her mouth. Her insides unknotted as sleep took her. _Erik.. Oh how I miss you. If only I could see you again. _She shifted uncomfortably, groaning slightly. "Where am I?" she murmured opening her eyes. Christine found herself lying on the cold, dirt floor of the gardens. _What the hell am I doing out here? What happened… _Memories of the previous night exploded in her mind, replaying each heart breaking detail over and over..

Pushing her suddenly aching lids shut, she thought to herself, _I must speak to him about this. Now. Before he leaves for his 'appointment' with this vulgar woman. _She got to her feet shakily and wondered into the manor. She climbed the stairs, massaging an sore neck, when she reached their room and starred inside the open door.

_He's left. Gone to his whore already. A small tear leaked from her eye and she wiped at it profusely until the sight of tears were no longer visible. Rage blossomed in her mind and before she could help herself, she ripped open one of Raoul's desk drawers to find exactly what she was looking for. she got up and went to Raoul's dresser. Yanking the items from the drawer, she brought the letters to her bed and flopped down on them reading: _

_Dear Raoul,_

_Last night was amazing! I can't believe it was you who was there at the Opera Spectacular's birthing party. I feel horrible for what I did to Christine, but I love you so much! I know you love me too. Maybe this can last through when your married to Christine. I know you love her more than me, but I can give you just as much, maybe more than her when it comes to love. I'll see you early Friday morning._

_Love, Meg_

Christine starred in horror at the signature. _MEG? My best friend! How could she betray me like this? She loves him, worse he loves her too. He loves me but not much, now that I think about it. _She glanced at the date, her face reddening, hatred pulsing through her veins. _This has been going on for two months? I hate him. I hate her. They're supposed to be there for me when things like this happen, not the people who cause it! I don't want to love him anymore, I can't... There is no one now. Everyone is gone. Everyone.. Except Erik._ Christine thought suddenly.

Her tears stopped and she stood up. Warmth spread through her cold heart, returning it to it's normal, kind and loving status. A softness took over her and she clutched her hand desperately. She dressed up in a blue and white dress and went down stairs and saddled clover numbly. Her heart was heavy and calling for love and her soul was begging for sanctuary.

She rode clover in to town back to the opera house. Back to another twisted complication of the heart. With shaking hands, she tethered clover to a grassy area and walked into the opera house. At first, she strode at a brisk pace, which turned in to a small jog, which turned into all out run to Erik's lair. A tear escaped from Christine's pained brown eyes, she couldn't bare it any longer. Coming to the lake, she found the gondola missing. _That won't stop me! _She dipped a slender foot into the icy water and began swimming across. The cold bit in to her body, making her heart beat faster than it already did. She came to his cold, rusting gate at long last and panted softly.

Catching her breath, she peered through the bars looking for any sign of Erik. He seemed to be in his one of his rooms. _Please say he's here. I need you.. _His memory washed over her and she took a deep breath and sang a soft unwavering note, knowing that what ever came next was meant to be. The music stopped and Erik came out and looked through the bars of the gate, a shocked expression plastered to his paling face.. He wore no mask and his shirt exposed his handsomely muscular chest. "Erik" she whispered breathless.


	3. Chapter 3

A/n: For those wondering, this story does have a plot, it just hasn't shown all it's true colors yet. Just to let you know, for future references, the things Christine will be thinking will be in _italics _and Erik's thoughts will be in **bold. **Thank you to all my reviewers, I leave you red roses with black ribbons:

Kathy.L

Tex110

Kchan

Angel or Demon

(with a swoop of a cap, authoress vanishes leaving you all with chapter 3)

Disclaimer: I do Not own The Phantom of the Opera.

**__**

Chapter 3

Until that very moment that Christine had graced his presence, Erik had been miserably plotting someway to get his angel back to him. "Damn it.. That wouldn't work the vicomte would keep a sharper eye on her, than to let her be easily fooled like that!" he growled menacingly. **why did I let her go? She could have still been here with me, if I did not go emotional and free her to that god forsaken bastard! Oh Christine.. Why must you haunt my thoughts? Why did you return? **

He slammed his fist into the wall, biting his lip to hold back more tears. When Christine had come back to his lair the day before, he had remembered seeing her run from his gate, heard her soft footsteps running in panic, and had become more obsessed with getting his hearts desire back. With an immense sigh, he walked back to his chair, sinking in to it reluctantly.

He closed his eyes, thinking of something, anything, that would return her to his arms. **She came yesterday because of my voice.. Maybe I can lure her once again with it… **Wheels in his mind churned quickly as a plot began to unfold in his mind, when he heard the voice from the gate. His heart nearly stopped, and his knuckles turned white under his firm grip on The arm of the chair. Breathing rapidly to return air to his lungs, he lunged from his chair to the door, grabbing his mask from Don Juan just in case it was her. **What vile game is my head playing with me now? Could it be Christine?**

Erik starred at Christine in utter shock as his heart almost leaped out of his chest. His hands went numbly for the lever and the gate slid open slowly. He shoved on his mask, shamefully. **Her eyes need not see this loathsome deformity. **_It's too late, too late to turn back, I guess I could say I passed the point of no return.. again.. _Her breath caught in her breast and she stepped in. "Christine, you… You came back." He whispered aloud, breathlessly. **This is no apparition. She is real. And she's come back to me.. On her own free will. **

Their eyes locked and she held his gaze. Her mouth went dry as his mysterious green eyes seemed to divulge in the richness of her soul. The heavy barrier around his heart, began to rise rapidly and replace the feeling of emptiness with a feeling he thought he'd never feel. Sweet happiness. A swift pain went through his mouth as he bit the insides of his cheek to keep from running to her and weeping an eternity of longing at her drenched feet.

** Wake up you fool! She's standing there, soaking to the brim and you're just gawking. Invite her in! **He told himself firmly, blushing slightly at his awkwardness. "Please mademoiselle, come in." The words shocked her from her alluring day dream and tripping over her skirts, walked in clumsily. _Slick Christine, just slick. _She thought blushing madly. "Erik.. I.. I've…come to.. Tell you.. I've come back to say that...that..."_**Spit it out!** _They both thought anxiously. Erik started to shake, tears welling up in his eyes as Christine spoke from deep within her heart.

"The truth is, that for months.. Well.." "Yes?" Erik blurted out making Christine blush insanely. A red tinge spread over his pale face. "Please forgive me for my outburst my dear.. It's just been.. So long." She stood close enough to him, that if she stretched out her arm long enough, she could touch his cheek. She longed to do so, to kiss away the tear that now rolled down his shaven cheeks.

"Erik.. I love you." Erik froze, shell shocked. The words seemed to linger in the air, filling the sudden silence with an indescribable peace. **She loves me. **To Erik, 'I love you' was an alienated yet appealing phrase, that he longed to use, but never in his life did he expect to here these words repeated with such passion. More tears leaked from the edges of his eyes. Not waiting for a reply, Christine took two long strides and wiped away his tears, coming so close to him, that she could feel his ragged breaths whisk about her face.

Startled by this new show of affection, he stepped back. _Oh lord! He doesn't feel the same any longer! What was I thinking coming back here! All I did was bring back terrible memories for him. _Salty tears welled up behind her eyes, stepping backwards, "Erik, I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to.."

"No! Don't leave me, please." he took a great step and seized her minute hands gently in his massive ones."I didn't mean to alarm you, I just never had someone care so deeply about me enough to wipe away my tears of joy." Another tear trickled down his black mask and a soft smile caught her lips. She put a hand to his mask and whispered, "I love you." Erik immediately fell under her enthralling spell, pulling his hands to her cheeks. She bit back a gasp of thrill at the icy feeling of his calloused touch. Sensing her uneasiness, he pulled his hands away, enraged at his abrupt actions.

"No, Please don't." she whispered hurriedly catching his hands in hers. He closed his eyes, knowing this had to be a dream for it was all too good to be true. Yet it was. Here she was, standing before him, confessing her love for him, her fallen angel of musik. Their hearts beat as one, as they just stood there wrapped in silence of the thrilling confessions. She wiped away his tears, stroking the visible part of his face. Christine's eyes fluttered shut, losing her self to Erik's soothing presence.

Watching her stand there, unafraid and calm, Erik sighed in pleasure. His favorite dream was playing out right before his eyes, reality had his favor at mind. Her eye lids fluttered open to see Erik's eyes close, a smile stretch across his face. Warmth flooded her heart, as well as his and gingerly, bravely, she slid the mask off of his head.

Erik's eyes shot open, aghast. **Not again! Why must you betray me so?** A finger was pressed firmly against his gaping mouth. Her warm brown eyes caressed the deformed, red flesh, than timidly brought her lips to his, pulling away her finger. They trembled as one, expressing their innocent love. His hand slid up her cheek in utter disbelief. Her slender fingers slid across the bumpy uneven flesh on the right side of his face tenderly. He increased the passion in their kiss, feeling that time it's self had stopped for them and only them. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer to his trembling body. His tongue flecked her lips and he pulled himself away from her sweet kisses.

"Christine I love you." He sang melodically in her ear. Her fingers stretched through his silky black hair, letting the heat of their breath ingle in the air before them. "I love you too my angel." The skin under Christine's lips tingled, her soft lips brushing up against his neck. Her eye's fluttered shut, savoring the taste of Erik, an appealing blend of roses, rosemary, and dust. Minutes flew by, until Erik pulled away from her. A smile hanging upon his lips from ear to ear.

"Wait here my love, I have something to give you." Pulling away he disappeared in to one of the rooms and than, things plummeted back to reality. Chills ran up and down Christine's spine, the heat and pleasure she shared with Erik, banished to realms of forgotten memories. _Oh dear lord… What the hell is wrong with me! I'm worse than Raoul, I… I can't believe how foolish and naïve I am! Running to Erik for comfort and love, when Raoul would be happy to do that, _if he had the time, added another part of herself. _Ugh, I can't bare how immorally revolting I've become. I mean, I'm engaged and in love with another man! I don't deserve the heat and passion of love, I deserve death and a thousand punishments. I must tell Erik that I can't be with him. _Christine's heart turned stone cold, the barrier she thought was lifted, fell twice as hard over her. _But, I can't.. I can't break his heart again. I broke it once, I can't break it again, not like this. What choice do I have though! I devoted myself to Raoul, this game fate plays must now come to an end. Even if it is disastrous. _

Erik almost skipped out of his room to see her put on a fake smile. "Christine, I love you. You were always the one I loved, the one I could never live without." He grabbed her hand giddily, looking at her with pure joy. _Oh god please say he doesn't.. Not like this, stop him, NO! _The urge to claw herself to pieces would have to wait, for Erik drew out a small black box. _Strike me down, have mercy!_

_ "_You are the light in my unworthy darkness, the voice in the fog that guides me to light, without you, my world would cease to exist, without the presence of you. No gorgeous blossom in full bloom can compare to you angelic beauty." His heart beat quickly, thundering in his chest, **Who knew this could be so difficult? **"What I am trying to ask you Christine, is…" He opened the box with ease looking into her troubled eyes. "Will you marry me?" The smile fell away from her face, replaced with a grim frown. _Damn my spirit to the bowels of hell. His spirit will never be the same again, because of me…_ Tears graced her cheeks as she spoke softly, heartbroken in to the sudden silence. "Erik.. I'm sorry, but I…"

A/n: I thought it would be fun to leave you at a bit of a cliff hanger….


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/n: Bonjour my dears! I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. The beginning of this chapter may not suit some of you, but don't fret, it has a wonderful ending. Since all of the characters are Parisians, I've decided to make them speak some of their native language. Just tid bits though and I do tell ya what they mean. I think I'm forgetting something…(big question mark hovers over authoresses head) Don't remember..**_

A big round of applause and red roses with black ribbons to my reviews for chap.3!

**Kathy.L**

**Tex110**

**DragonheartRAB**

_**Chapter 4**_

"Will you marry me?" The smile fell away from her face, replaced with a grim frown. _Damn my spirit to the bowels of hell. His spirit will never be the same again, because of me… _Tears graced her cheeks as she spoke softly, heartbroken in to the sudden silence. "Erik.. I'm sorry, but I…"

** No.. She can't do this. She loves me.. Why would… She's still engaged to the damn vicomte! That bastard won't be alive much longer to hold the chains to Christine's heart.. Don't say anything Christine, I won't let you. **Pain twisted his gut in to a thousand knots, his eyes watering and spilling over his cheeks. He jumped from his crouched position, taking Christine in his arms.

"Erik…" Her voice was muffled by his soft lips. _Erik! Why do you make this harder than it already is, kissing fixes nothing in our dilemma._

"_Erik! I need to tell you…" _

"Don't. Don't destroy my dreams. I love you." He sobbed squeezing her shoulders painfully. These words were said with such emotion, that Christine lost all thought on the subject. Instead, she took his face in her hands and brought it to her lips.

"I.. I can't… This can't happen my love, you must know the truth." Agony surged through his veins, "The truth means nothing to me now! The only thing I know is that you love me, that's all I want to know!" A small flash of anger shot through her body,

"How do you expect to live, to go on without the truth? Listen to me.." He turned his head away, hiding the pain in his eyes.

"Tomorrow." He whispered, broken. Startled, she stared at him, her self hatred rising with every breath. _He has known nothing but pain in his life. This news can wait. _She took a small step and with her arms stretched held Erik's trembling body.

"Tomorrow than my love, tomorrow." She felt his arms slid around her back, his warm breath tickling her ear. _My poor angel._ A velvety melodic note wisped through the silence around them, encasing them in Christine's musical asylum. Erik's breathing steadied, his tears ceased, and his body began to feel limp in her arms. Fearing that he would collapse on top of her, she directed him to his bedroom, settling him neatly on the silk sheets. Sleep took him in it's calming grasp, leaving Christine alone in the darkness. She finished her song, caressing his face tenderly.

Hours passed with them, encased in the darkness, lying next to each other. Opening her eyes, she sought out the clock, finding it to be about 7 o'clock. With a heavy heart, she left Erik's side, going for a piece of paper. Holding back tears, she began to scribble a note, describing her horrendous situation:

_Mon amour(my love), Erik,_

_ I love you. I swear I do, but we can't do this. I've bound myself to Raoul and I turn back now. I'm so sorry, I knew I shouldn't of come here, but the memory of you took over and now, I've hurt you worse than before. Do not dwell on me and please, whatever you do, do not come looking for me. Forgive me my love,_

_Si long et au revoir mon amour,(so long and good bye)_

_Christine_

She trembled as she wrote this, tears streamed down her face. _I can never forgive my actions, but I can for them with my life. If I make it pert, maybe he will get a grudge rather than lament._ She signed the letter sloppily, blinded by tears and fled from the cave before she burst out crying. _Idiot! _Clover shifted nervously at his masters uneasiness. She wiped tears from her eyes and spoke to clover, her only friend at the time.

"Why did I go there! If I had just stayed with Raoul, this wouldn't be happening. These horrid feelings shouldn't have gone so far, cut so deep. I love Raoul, I really do, but now I love Erik just as much. Je suis le fait de baiser vissé(I'm fucking screwed)"

With the point of her shoe, she gave Clover gave clover a soft nudge, forcing him to gallop quickly towards the manor. The icy blistering wind dried the tears from Christine's face and sent her curls flying.

_ I broke Erik's heart once before and now I've shattered it in to finer pieces! He's going to come for me, I know he will. Even if it kills him, he will come. Meaning I must hurry… But what about Raoul? I can't leave him to the hands of Erik, he'll rip him limb from limb.. I'll just have to leave him a note.. Tell the maid or something! God damn my foolish heart! I'll rid them of myself, of this appalling burden. They deserve better.. Raoul should marry meg, not me. I wish I would have told Erik how beautiful he was, how talented…He does not deserve the hell in which he buries himself in. I love him so, yet I refuse to be the cause of any more of his unhappiness. Without me, they're lives will be easier. I know it will. _Her heart broke in to finer pieces with every unforgivable thought and plummeted to the bowels of earth where darkness reigns supreme.

She directed Clover into one of the stalls, handing clovers reigns to a cheerful stable boy. "Thank you mademoiselle, anything else you'd like me to do?" She shook her brown curls, "No, no, monsieur. That will be all, merci très beaucoup."(thank you very much) Going to the library, she whipped out a piece of gray parchment and a quill. Trembling, she wrote a note to Raoul.

_Mon amour,_

_ Being locked in your prison of juvenile and inhuman treatment, I lost hope in our relationship, though still continued to love you. But when I learned of your secrets, we lost all hope of healing our engagement. I know about your affair with Meg Giry. I saw how you the letters, the lipstick, smelled the perfume. There is no arguing with this my dear, our marriage is ruined. I hate you for this, yet still love you. In sorrow, I did something unforgivable. I went back to the opera house, searching for some one I thought I lost so long ago, Erik, The Phantom of the Opera. I cannot deny it, I love him. (She dared not go into how deeply she felt for him, not wanting to upset him any more) I did not betray you like you did me, yet stayed with him, in a eccentric state of pure bliss. When I realized my actions, I decided my fate. I love you both equally and refuse to break another heart. I will rid you of this monstrous burden. If by suicide to relive you, than so be it. Do not grieve, though I don't know why you would. Marry Meg, be happy! Although, the minute you finish reading this, get out of the house. Immediately._

_Si long et au revoir mon amour_

_Christine_

After sealing it with a small wax seal in the De Changy coat of arms, she walked silently to her bedroom. She froze at the door. Raoul's voice echoed through the door way. A pleasuring moan, and than a woman's loud giggle. One that she knew very well. It was Meg.

"Oh my god.."

She dropped the note in front of the door and ran down the stairs, her blood pounding in her ears. Tearing in to the kitchen, nearly blinded by tears, her hands gropped around in the darkness for the all to familiar object. A sharp pain went through her slender finger. _Found it, _was all she could think of, and was off. _I hate him! how could he do that? Why did I do that? How can I still love him? How can Erik still love me? How can... What am I doing? Wallowing in self pity? It's time I took this pain and let it out. the consequence of my actions will be repaid and the burden I put on everyone's shoulders will be relived._

The night air was cold, and barely illuminated by the pale glow of the moon. Stalking through the darkness, Christine resembled that of a small, ghost, trailing after the unknown, ever so cautiously. The frigid air bit through her thin wardrobe, sending repulsive quivers through her. Down an alley way, around the opera house, through the town, past a pound, and deep in to a forest, she was led by her provoked decision. Memories, good and bad, pestered her, throwing what ever it could at her._ I must concentrate. Mustn't loose focus._

Almost an hour later, Christine found herself facing a glittering lake. _This is it. May my spirit burn for it's sins. _Glittering tears leaked down her face splashing against the dull blade of the knife. Branches from a willow tree shaded her from the world as, she set the tip of the blade to her skin. She pressed down with all her might, pain streaking up her right arm. A long deep gash appeared under her blured eyes. With a cry of anguish, she tore at her arm again, letting the pain seep down in to her soul.

"Adieu monde!" (farewell world)Numbly, she moved the blade to her left arm, white knuckled hands clutching the knife fiercely. Tears streamed down her face, leaving crimson streaks behind it. She heard a faint noise of rustling leaves some where behind her, yet ignored it. Pushing the knife deep within her arm, she felt her breath catch in her breast. Drawing the bloody weapon out from her arm, she cut more shallow slits into her flowing arms that shook with fear and pain.

The knife ripped into her smooth flesh once more, leaving a ragged tears in its wake. The blood blossomed across her dress, dripping onto the sandy dirt. The noise was growing louder, with every breath she took. Her ears pounded, her face paled, only one thought crossed her mind. Erik. With one last hack, she fainted into the arms of Erik. Swearing at the gory mess before him, he began ripping cloth from his cloak profusely.

"Don't die on me, my love. I won't loose you this easily, not again." He was terrified, he had no clue what he would do if she were to die. **Probably something worse than what my angel was trying to attempt. **Lifting her mangled wrists to his bandage, he became alarmed at the damage that she had inflected upon herself. **She's such a tiny person, how could she have done so much? And with a dull blade! My poor angel… **

While wrapping her wounds in a red stained band aid, Erik tried not to think of what might have happened if he did not make it in time. Morbid thoughts of his mangled love flashed in front of him and he shivered violently. Such thoughts made him abjectly afraid and sorrowful. A single tear slipped from his eyes. Realizing he was crying, he silently swore at himself. If he broke down right now… He didn't even want to think of it. He already had enough trouble with his pained heart and Christine's sudden taste for morbid tragedies. Erik pulled the unconscious Christine to him, whispering reassuring words, Mostly for his sake, seeing that she was asleep.

"Christine what have you done?…" He sighed, tears welling up in his forest green eyes. Shredding the long black cloak into more long thick strips, he bound her wrists in a red ribbon like band aid. He looked at his distraught fallen angel and thought with distress,

**Christine, how could you do this! Cut your wrists, try your hand at death… You shouldn't have to experience this feeling of self loathing. Suicide, I thought nothing could brake your spirit. **

Lifting her fragile body, he noticed the considerable amount of weight she had lost. The creases in his eyebrows deepened, **What has that fop been feeding her? Perhaps telling her wicked lies, so that she would starve herself… **

Her head fell softly on to his shoulder, mouthing non coherent words in silent screams. With a simple movement, he positioned her so that his hand lay soothingly on her back, comforting her in her fiendish nightmares of hell.

"Mon chérie, so restless. So broken, your love for life seems to have diminished with the will to live. Je vous aime.(I love you)"

"Ange.. (angel)"

Her usually, soft and musical voice was etched with ice and a horrible pleading note. Shivers ran down his spine, his feet moving soundlessly through the woods. His eyes trailed across her paling face, her body almost as cold as his soft touch. Curls bounced wildly about her face, some bunched up with dry blood. The thin white dress she wore was soaked in it, spots here and there, a large crimson stain along her front. Her ruined garments made the peaceful girl look like she had just single handedly fought a brutal battle. The fact that she had lost so much blood, petrified Erik.

** If I hadn't of gotten there when I did, my poor ange would have passed into darkness. That damned Vicomte destroyed her spirit. If it wasn't for his unfaithfulness, Christine wouldn't be like this. I'd like him to meet the end of my lasso. The débauché fichu(damn fucker)… Erik blazed with fury for Raoul. A cold passionate hate flowed through Erik's veins. préparez-vous à subir un destin malheureux…(prepare to meet an unfortunate fate) Erik now had something to occupy himself with when he retuned to his lair. **

a/n- hehe. Told ya it was a good ending.(laughs maliciously) To all those who are Raoul lovers, no I won't kill Raoul. He's a needed character.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Sorry it took so long to post this chapter, I'll strive to get the next ones out much quicker. Thank you to all my reviewers!(rounds of applause and black roses with red ribbons tied around them for you all)**

**ladyflutter-I sorta had a brain fart and forgot about that little detail of the band aids.. Thanks for correcting me**

**Angel or Demon**

**Tex110**

**Kathy.L**

**DragonHeartRAB**

**Kchan**

**(authoress disappears with swoosh of a cape)**

**Reminder: _Christine's thought s are italics and _Erik's are in bold.**

_**Chapter 5**_

_ Black flames danced along her ravaged body, engulfing her petit form in a suffocating darkness. 'Forgive me' she pleaded into the burning heat that licked the very feeling from her flesh, leaving her numb and pained. Her thoughts swam, her heart raced, her entire being shook with fear and hatred. Gray smoke steadily churned and tightened it's hot hold around her body, squeezing the breath from her heaving chest. Terror deluged her mind and she fought uncontrollably against the darkening unknown. 'Help me!', she mouthed, trying to force the sound from her silently sore throat. Gasping for breath, she went limp into it's strangling hold. Right before the life was entirely extinguished from her, the foggy force vanished leaving her lying on the damp ground._

Christine groaned trying to coax herself into opening her eyes, but to no avail. A moan of pain escaped her lips. Her body was sore from head to toe, especially her wrists. _But why? She thought curiously._ Than it came back to her, all the pain staking memories from the days before. Random scenes presented themselves before her closed lids majestically, each replaying every foolish move she made.

_ What have I done!_ Each image took a jab at her heart thus, forcing her eyes to flash open. A creased black curtain hung in her view, hiding her from the details surrounding her

_ Oh dear lord non… He has discovered me!_ With all the strength in her, she wrenched her weak body from her sweat drenched sheets. Although the black silk was blocking her view, Christine knew where she was. Reaching blindly through the dimly lit void, she grabbed a smooth tassel. With a small yank, the curtains rose, revealing the rest of Erik's later.

_ I'm in the Louise-Phillip room. Why did he stop me? How did he find me? I did not hide myself away well enough for his genius to not find me, damnit! Foolish girl, did you expect to die easily? Your thoughts were so clouded with death, that you did not realize how your rash actions were bound to draw attention, therefore your stupidity lies in the fact that you did not cover up you be founded trail! Than to not be aware of the fact that you were committing suicide out in the open for every one in the god damned village to see!_ Her once pallor face, grew crimson with fury.

"Shit!" she muttered under her breath violently. Her sudden urge to swear at the top of her lungs, left her breathless and unbearably tempting. Letting her head fall gracefully into her hands, she silently scolded herself.

_ Control yourself. It is 'unlady like' to curse even a tiny amount according to my inane fiancé… Imprudent is what I am…I must get out of here, all because Erik stopped me from committing suicide once, doesn't mean he will be able to stop me twice. This way I'll make it so he can't revive me. Perhaps something grotesque. Any thing for him. Why he saved me is beyond me. I'm a disgrace to society, the demon from the nightmares… I broke his heart twice, how can he love a monster? _A tear slid from her closed eye, stinging her cool cheek.

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Meanwhile, Erik was thinking quite the same thing. **Imbecile! How could you fall so shamefully for her act! Breaking down at her feet, pleading for her not to go, resulting to Begging! What has become of the Phantom of the Opera! Where was my pride when she returned, I just let her walk all over me.** **This seductive vixen shan't play with your head again. Never shall I relinquish power to the likes of this.. Of this…Ange.**

Sighing, Erik pulled his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

"My ange de musique, mon cherie." A soft wisp of dust flew from the organ as his long black cloak fluttered down onto the piano bench. The keys remained untouched, like they had been for one year.

In his sorrow, the Phantom abandoned his musik, finding that his overwhelmingly emotional notes brought back pain filled memories.

** Suicide. A thousand angels cried that night for you. Mon amor, once again I was the cause of your strife. It shouldn't have had to of been you with the blade, this loathsome gargoyle should be burning down in the wraths of hell. Why did you come back? Is it true that what I saw in your eyes was…**

With a growl of disgust, Erik leapt from his chair yanking his cloak from the dusty confines of the piano bench. **She does not love you. What you saw was pity, pure pity. She told the damned Vicomte she loved you too make him jealous before she took the cowards way out. Who could love such a carcass as yourself?**

His heart fell in his chest, a bitter, stone cold wall rising about it's bleeding confines. He slid through the passage way behind one of his shattered mirrors, slipping into nothingness.

** Now time to settle the matter of Raoul still existing.**

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When the sound of a closing door met Christine's ears, she leapt from her bed, rushing to the door of the Louise-Phillip room. She slid her petite form through the entrance way easily. The feeling of longing inside of her had caused her appetite to decrease, gradually each day, until she was at the point of a meal a day.

After she was absolutely sure Erik was not hidden somewhere in his lair waiting for the chance to spring at her with his Punjab lasso, she practically flew towards the lakeIcy shivers ran up her spine at the touch of the rippling water.

_ Fly! Unless you want to be murdered by the one you love. Although, it sounds better than dying alone… _Her thoughts trailed off before she remember what she was doing and, muttering swears under her breath, trudged through the murky waters. All the time, her thoughts strayed to Erik.

"Please forgive me, mon amor." Her heart called to her phantom, yearned for his presence, grieved in the absence of his godly voice.

_ He could never love a monster. _The callous words echoed through her mind, stinging the insides of her heart.

_ He deserves more than this hell he puts himself through, he could never a monster._ A single tear caught the edge of her eye, the last of her pure thoughts. With a trembling hand she brushed it away vigorously.

_ No man deserves this monster, this fowl deceptive demon._ The second her numb feet touched the shore line, they flew through the dark cellars of the once majestic Opera Populair. Blindly stumbling over her sopping dress, grotesque images of her mangled body lying at the foot of the building deluged her black view.

Auburn locks, matted by blood seeping from her cracked skull, her once graceful limbs, twining in every unnatural position imaginable. Eyes staring blankly into the nothingness she had damned herself to. A tremor of terror wound it's way up her spine, intensifying her already distraught visage.

_ Do not think of such things. You can not weasle your way out, you brought this upon yourself. You do this for the men you broke. They could never love a monster. _

Finally, Christine reached the top cellar. Sighing in relief, she slammed the trap door open, peering out over the vast and dusty expanse. Pulling herself gingerly out of the trap door, memories of her first major role in the theater swamped her suddenly, relieving her physical and emotional pains, though if only for a moment.

_ Each footstep echoed throughout the unusually silent opera house. Disdainful whispers than erupted from the front row, spreading like a ripple through the crowd off richly dressed patrons and wealthy couples. 'This child can never replace the real diva' she heard from the front row. Her breath caught in her breast, a warm burst of fury pulsing through her. Looking down in to the orchestra pit, she saw the conductor give the signal and hesitantly, parted her lips and let the soft angelic note escape._

Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

When we've said goodbye,

Remember me once in a while,

Please promise me you'll try

_ The crowds doubting whispers stopped all at once. Gaping wide at the sweet melody floating around them, the smile on the edges of Christine's lips widened. The nerve-raking discomfort seemed to evaporate from the triumphant Christine as she poured her soul into the last of the song._

Please promise that sometimes,

You'll still think of…

Christine fell suddenly from her trance like state, falling towards the gaping black hole beneath her. "NO!" She reeled away with all her might, ripping her crimson dress.

Scrambling to her feet, she flung herself off stage and up the staircase. _No, he can't take me back to his hell hole, I won't let him! No more sins on his slate, let Erik be free of this monster! Guide me so he won't reach me, speed me towards the heavens so I can plunge back into my hell! _

Shock shrouded her thoughts in unmistakable fear, her already pale face changing to a lighter paler. With the wings of mercury guiding her, her feet carried her faster than ever before. Sweat dripped into her wide eyes, blurring and burning them. They remained open despite the pain, no use in running into a wall while blinded.

Her body screamed at her to stop, her legs protested with almost unendurable flaming sensations every time her muscles reacted to her quickened pace.

_ I will never stop. No demon or fiend of the most terrifying could stop me. He could never love a monster._ Her head spun, one floor to go. In the back of her mind, she heard the swoosh of a cloak, the whirl of a Punjab lasso, the creaking of the unexpected, egging her on.

The deep emotions she kept locked away inside the very bowels of her soul, erupted onto her cheeks in great showers of salty rain. _Run fool, he can never love a monster! _Christine piled through the door ways to the roof tops like a mad man.

Before she could catch herself and drag herself the extra 10 feet, the ground loomed in front of her, slamming the cool cement into her face. The air flooded back into her lungs, sending stabbing shocks in her chest. Gulping in breathes of precious air, she let her eyes weep freely.

"He doesn't love you, he never will. He can't love a monster, he can't!" She yelled viciously at the grey rooftops. Forgetting about the fact that Erik might be somewhere, gaining quickly on her in hot pursuit, she ripped off the bloody cloths to her wounds.

Starring dumbfounded at the damage she inflected, she set off her right hand, searching for something, anything that would help her with her next step. Hands met broken glass and a malevolent smile creased her lips. Slitting the small glass into her arm, her eyes rolled up in t her head with numb pleasure.

"Forgive me Erik, Raoul. I never meant to hurt you." Blood spilled onto her wrists, leaving little rivers running over arms. Cutting deeper, she felt glass hit muscle, and laughed with a strong ait of malice.

"I hate myself for all the pain I caused you. I love you." She cried into the black swirling clouds, reading themselves to spill their heavy contents on to the streets of Paris.

_ Stop this folly, take your life before Erik can. It's the least I can do to help him find redemption._ She dipped her finger into the trails of blood, and on the floor wrote_, Forgive me love. Forgive this Monster._

"Forgive this me, mon amor! Forgive this monster who loves you so." She wept openly to the heavens in with the voice of a thousand falling angels.

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Erik watched numbly from the shadows, too stunned to stop his mad love. **She loves you still, she loves you! Yet you stand and watch her die? Christine, your angel that you once sought revenge against _begs _with you for forgiveness. My ange de musique. **His heart pounded in his ears, his mouth now dryer than the vastest deserts. Heat swelled almost unbearably through his systems, calling for her touch to come and cool him. **Get her you fool!**

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Christine gasped for breath, the amazing heights sending cold chills through her spine. All the bustling Parisians seemed like tiny ink dots swirling this way and that in a mad struggle to find a way out of the mass they were suppressed in.

"Forgive this monster, he could never love a monster, father.. for I have s-sinned." She took a step, feeling the frigid air beneath her naked feet. "Forgive me, mon amor." She whispered, closing her eyes and waiting for the plunge.

A smarting jerk sent her flying to the opera rooftops. Christine's eyes shot open, taking in the scene before her. Her body was smashed to Erik's, the Punjab lasso in his hand. They crashed to the floor, Erik still holding onto her tightly. With a pleading yelp, she tried to push away but found herself encased in his massive arms. Tears fell from her cheeks, wetting the Phantom's velvety cape. Their breathing labored, their hearts beating as one. She was crushed under him, her back to his chest. His hot breath caressed her ear, the scent of rosemary and dust wafting around them. They lay like that for what seemed like hours until, finally Christine spoke,

"Why'd you do it?"

She pulled from his grasp, sitting on her knees. Watching her graceful movements, Erik almost lost himself in her beauty, before realizing she was speaking to him. The feelings of hatred he felt earlier vanished, leaving his heart open and vulnerable to her. "Christine, why do you think?" he put out his arms to draw her closer to him to only see her shrink back in fear. Looking hurt, he realized he still held his Punjab. **Damned fool, she's afraid of you, hates you! **He thundered at himself. Pain twisted her heart, releasing a wave of grief.

_He could never love a monster. She thrust out her neck and waited for her suffocating demise. _

"Christine I.." He stopped mid-sentence to see her bow her head as though waiting for the executioner.

"Forgive me mon ange. I never meant to be the monster in your nightmares." Tears hammered at the back of his eyelids begging him for freedom, to no avail. He slid a calloused hand under her chin gruffly pulling her to face him. Their breathes mingled in the air, both sweet and tangy, etched with blood and strife.

"Christine, how many times must I tell you, no matter what you do, I'll always love you." He tilted her lips to his and kissed them gingerly. The salty bitter blood mingled into their soft embrace, causing him to break away. Without warning, he lurched at her arm. Grabbing tenderly, he brought it to his chest, ripping strips from his muslin shirt.

"Christine, promise me this," bringing the cloths to stretch tightly so that she bit her pale lip in pain, he growled "Never try your fate with suicide again. I forbid you." A wall of rebellion rose in her at the word forbid and Erik felt her tense beneath his palm. She sighed, giving in,

"Yes mon amor. I give you my word." Erik trembled at the words mon amor and tried not to show how these words affected him so. "I love you to much to have you die." He bound her wrists gently, silently cursing himself for his earlier actions. She stole a glance at his forest green eyes, wincing at the tears that threatened to spill.

"Don't leave me again mon ange." Reality struck her in the back of the head making all her dreams turn to ashes before her eyes.

"This is why you should of let me go." she whispered gravely, staring at the shard she had used only moments ago. "I'm bound to him, it's too late to turn back."

"The point of no return." he jested, letting loose a tremor of sorrow that felt like it slapped her.

"He has deceived you though, betrayed you in the most ruthless of manners, how can you still love a bastard like that?" he growled, voice dripping with sarcasm. "We can't help who we love, you should know." She replied darkly. **Slick idiot, just slick. **There was a long silence between them, the eye of the storm just before it hits again.

"I can't leave, I'm-I'm sorry." Her voice trembled, thick with sorrow. "Get revenge than, for everyday he betrays you, come to me! I will willingly help you take revenge! Please, just don't leave me. Not again. The heart can only suffer so much." Without thinking, Christine replied, "Revenge, fine." Erik looked up startled by her sudden out burst.

"W-what?" **Maybe I won't have to hold her against her will after all, **he thought hopefully. "What you just said, we could do it." Her face lit up slightly, making his heart flip. "No.. I can't… It's disgusting. You wouldn't get all of my heart. Please.." "No, do it." stammered Erik. "I don't care if I get a third of your heart, I need you." Silence.

"Alright, mon ange. We'll do it."


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: I'm so sorry I couldn't get this out sooner like I promised! My computer got extremely messed up and ruined all my files. The next chapter will come much more quickly!(I swear!) Black roses with red ribbons around them to my reviewers. enjoy**

_**Chapter 6**_

_ Almost a week. _Christine thought looking out her window with a soft look on her face. Since the day Christine had tried her fate with suicide and had been saved by her angel, she had almost never left Erik's side. Except when she knew Raoul was going to be home, than she was forced to stay at home, locked in her cage with no where to run. Although she loved her fiancé very much, Christine felt overbearing guilt every time she saw Raoul smile boyishly and wink at her with admiration.

_ Is this what he feels when he looks at me? Remorse? Self hatred perhaps? Christine thought bitterly, a knot twisting in her gut. _

_ Every time we see each other, it's always so unnerving and awkward, I feel as if this was the deep breath before the plunge, waiting until one of us bursts in to a screaming tirade. I wish things could be like they were in the old days, back at the opera, when we were both innocent, sharing one love._ She heaved a great sigh and watched as Raoul's carriage sped away into the setting sun. A deep longing pain slid it's black blade into a weak part in her heart, unleashing a tear from her heavy eyes. Another ran from the other eye, only this one not of love, but of a fierce hate. She loathed him for leaving her constantly to be with Meg, to enjoy her time while abandoning Christine to the dark dungeons of his vast, yet suffocating manor

_ You are sickening bastard Raoul De Changy! Imbécile! Of course, I'm not much better. I'm actually twice as worse.. After finding out he's with another woman, I go and find myself someone to cheat back with!_ A small tear slid from the corner of her eyes before she closed them and brought her knees to her chest, not caring that if she moved any more to the right, she would teeter off the edge of the balcony falling to her doom. She wasn't afraid of heights anymore, well not much.

The battle of self hatred, love, and desperate longing began waging a violent battle inside her chest, fighting brutally to see who could take over and lead her down the unbeaten road. Biting her lip in frustration, Christine clawed at her wrists. Searing pain shot through her arm, waking her up from her tormenting daydreams.

_ At least I didn't sleep with Erik, makes me seem somewhat better.. She shook her head, humored at her foolishness._

_ I'm acting as if Meg and Erik weren't living people. Like they were dolls or something you could dress up and show off._ She rolled her eyes, pictures of herself and Raoul parading with Meg and Erik tucked under their arms, dressed wildly in extravagant finery and ribbons. "Lord." She whispered finding a slight sense of peace among the madness of her life.

_Erik is much more than a person I've taken a liking into, I love him. _A warmth settled over her small form, a smile playing on her lips.

_My ange de musique, without you, I'd probably be here, dying of loneliness… Either that or I'd be six feet under._ The wind whistled through her dark curls, sending a shiver through her body. She tilted her head towards the full moon that just began to poke out it's shadowy head. Feeling the blissful darkness take her under it's sweet enticing spell, she began to sing a soft melody,

"Past the point of no return,

The final threshold,

The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn,

We've past the point of no return."

Something cool and light was pressed to her lips and she jumped from her perch, fear flooding her body. Christine faltered and lost her balance, falling to the rocky ground below. Her eyes flew open, watching helplessly as a black figure slid his hands around her waist, her deathbed vanishing from view.

"Erik!" She nearly screamed, enveloping him in a huge hug. Christine's sudden movements forced the Phantom backwards onto one of the Persian rugs.

"Monsieur, don't you know how to use a door knob?" she teased sweetly, rolling on top of her angel to give him a tender kiss on the lips. "Why mademoiselle, than I wouldn't have had the pleasure of sneaking up on you and shocking you to the core, sweet ange." He returned her kiss, slipping a hand under her chin.

"Haven't we been in this same position before?" he asked twirling a curl around one of his fingers.

"Dee-ja-voo." She got off him, pushing out a hand to lift him from the ground. Ignoring it, he shot to his feet.

_Erik and his pride. Christine thought sarcastically taking his hand in hers and leading him to her bedroom. _

"I welcome you Erik, to my prison cell!" she called mockingly, waving her arms in flourishing waves. He smirked, raising an eyebrow. Looking around the room, his eyes adjusting to the pale glow from the candle light, he glared disgusted at the miss-matching finery. The walls were a pale green wall paper with dark purple flowers etched into it, along the walls were magnificent, yet out of place oil paintings with some of the finest details portraying pictures of lilies t pictures of old De Changy family members. There were also several of the most grotesque fur rugs he had ever seen. He noticed Christine avoiding them as she walked to the room and sensed her obvious discomfort about the poor animals remains lying about the floor. Butchering animals for their fur was inhumane, even in Erik's eyes it was sickly.

The bed was a rather magnificent piece among the priceless collections of junk however. It was a tall black bed with tiny carvings of smooth angels fluttering about the vast marble bed. Dark magenta outlined the faces of the gloss immortals that climbed to the top of the black heaven, which draped white silk about it's velvety confines gracefully. Crimson laced pillows softened the sharp edges of it, creating an almost peaceful atmosphere about it. It was so inviting, Erik had to almost control himself not to go and grace his hands upon the realistic immortals. His thoughts were lost in the amazing art work of the bed, that he almost didn't notice that his angel was asking him a question. Blushing furiously under his mask, he approached her.

"What was that you said Christine? I couldn't here you clearly." **Liar.**

"Sont vous assoiffé?(Are you thirsty?) I can swipe a bottle of wine before the maid notices it's gone. Or if she catches me, I'll just tell it had been a bad day.." She closed her eyes slightly, fading into a blissful state. The fact that her Phantom was so close delighted her and sent tiny shivers of emotion down her spine.

"Non, non. I'm fine, but you seem a little parched by the slight rasp at the end of your sentences. Allow me to get you something." Gesturing a little towards the door, Christine nodded, not paying full attention to his movements. Like the whisper of a shadow, he slipped out the door way and into the dark hallway.

** Who knew the Vicomte, always dressed in his 'finest', could have such bad taste?** He told himself smiling maliciously. Portraits of sullen De Changy's starred gloomily at him as he slid by. Coming to a great marble stair case, he marveled in dismay at how sloppily the architect had achieved in making the probably intricet details seem pointless and unnatural. Vulgar paintings of the ancient Roman gods lay at the bottom of the stair case, along with some more fur rugs scattered about the polished hardwood floors.

** How can Christine bare to live inside such an ugly monstrosity! No wonder she spends all her time on that balcony. If it were I, I think I would have burned this place to the ground! Damnez Raoul! How could he lock up such an exotic bird that yearns to be free in such a vile cage. My poor mon cheire. **

Christine flopped back on to the bed, the last thing from graceful. She literally sunk into the great folds of crushed velvet, sighing with joy as the silky cloth brushed against her softer skin. A memory of some of her first days in the opera house sprung to her mind.

_ It was just a little after bedtime, and Meg had snuck into Christine's room to warn her of the dreaded Phantom of the Opera. _

"_Meg! What took you so long?" asked Christine tiredly, letting the little blonde sneak into the room, very pale._

_ "Maman had almost caught me! I had just barely made it, I swear she knew it was me though, she had that look on her face, like she does when she tells me to mind my own business." Meg whispered exasperated at her mother's 'noisiness'. Christine laughed softly and motioned for Meg to take a seat at the end of her bed. She gracefully settled herself along her pillow while Meg flopped down like a dying animal._

_ "You wanted to know about the phantom of the opera did you not?" Meg asked dramatically, trying desperately to seem mysterious. Christine suppressed a laugh and playing along, trembled the words"Yes! Who is he?" Amusement filled her voice and Meg glared._

_ "Alright, the Phantom of the Opera is no laughing matter Christine. He actually exists, I've seen him myself! He lives somewhere in the opera house, hiding." Her eyes lit up as fear tingled down her arms. _

"_He plays nasty tricks on people and can curse them with horrible luck. He's so menacing, that he can control the managers like puppets! So maman has said.. He sometimes decides on which players to cast in the plays, and is paid 20,000 francs a month! He wears a deaths head and a fedora and a long black cape and…"_

"_MEG GIRY! What are you doing in mademoiselle Daae's room! Christine, what are you doing up so late, go to bed now! Meg, come you fille folle(foolish girl), we wouldn't want the opera ghost to be learning of your disobedience, now would we?" Madame Giry whispered furiously at the girls. Meg's mouth dropped in horror and sped out of Christine's room with a rash, "Bon Nuit!" Madame Giry closed the door to her room with a swift "Bon niut." and left her in the darkness. She shuddered beneath her blankets, the terrifying picture of the Phantom of the Opera flashing under her eyelids. _

_ "Father, I wish you were here, I miss you so! I'm frightened of the Ghost papa, he sounds horrid." Tears fell from her cheeks as she waited and hoped in the silence, that there would be a response from someone, anyone, but no one called back reassuring words. Nothing. More tears fell as the feeling of complete emptiness took over. Than, she heard it. That was the first night she had met her ange de musique._

A cool breath slid down her neck, sparkinga rich flame of heat in her. Erik's cold calloused palm slid down the side of her face, relishing her soft features in his mind. The graceful down sweep of her neck, her chocolate brown eyes burning holes of desire in his head, the elegant curve of her lips, the pink flush in her cheeks, it was almost too much for him. Almost.

The fire of his love burned brightly in his rising chest, sending small waves of warmth through his normally icily numb body. Before he could stop himself, he had lowered his lips to her neck, slowly kissing her, taking in her flavor of roses and ripe citrus. His mouth had never tasted something so exotic, so smooth yet tangy. Trailing a trembling hand down her curves, entranced in her beauty, he pulled away abruptly.

** Idiot! She's trembling, she's terrified. I've seen this far too many times.** His heart sank, the fire dying slowly, to just a candle's size.Christine, just noticing his uneasiness, the shivers of pleasure vanishing, caught his hand and laid a soothing kiss on it. The turmoil that raged in her heart only an hour ago disappeared, the victor-love.

He watched, mezmerized, her lips meeting his skeletal flesh without hesitation or regret. The flame burst into bloom, sending deluging emotion throughout his body, his heart mending and revealing his innocence.

"Mon amour, would you sing to me?" Erik jerked from his trance like state to stare dumbly at her.

**Quick, she asked you to sing, répondez plus vite! He told himself hurriedly, trying to say something intelligent. **

Silence.

**Anything will do, just say a word, any word will do. **

Awkward silence.

** Oh I'm such an idiot. Tellement pour le génie!(so much for genius) **He could feel her large brown eyes on him, a giggle escaped her lips, damaging his pride slightly. He closed his eyes, not caring what non coherent word came from his mouth as long as he said something.

A long unearthly word escaped his lips sending his face into wild shades of deep crimson. Christine coughed, trying madly to cover her laughter so not to hurt his pride any more than it already was.

** Why the hell must 'mon amour' bring out such strange actions! She laughs at me! Speak, Erik, chanter?(sing)! Just do something! **

Opening his mouth , anger flashing in his eyes, he began to sing another nonsense word. Loudly. Two fingers were suddenly pressed against his mouth, shutting up his strange song. A fit of giggles erupted from her mouth sending a surge of fire through Erik's already tense body.

"I'm sorry Erik, but if you continued to sing like that, as beautiful as that sounded," She said sarcastically, making him flush even deeper with annoyance. "You would have brought about the maid and this would have been a bit hard to explain." Motioning her arms about Erik's body, he sighed exasperated.

"Désolé.. I…err… lost it. Again." His head hung, a look of defeated pride playing across his face.

"Would you like it if I sang for you? I've been practicing more lately, being shut up in this house doesn't leave much else to do." Her little hand ran through his hair, playing with edges of his mask. His breath caught in his throat. He jerked his head away from her touch, sitting up quickly. A cold wall of porcelain rose up between them, separating their feelings once again. Frowning in discomfort at his sudden stiffness, she out perhaps the only thing that could melt the wall of ice between them.

A long unwavering note clouded the air with it's triumphant glory, her angelic voice bouncing about the room. Closing her eyes and leaning against the bed post, she sang,

"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation,

Darkness stirs and wakes the imagination,

Silently the senses, abandon their defenses,"

She paused, breathing in deeply as Erik's eyes widened in utmost amazement. **How can she have remembered? It has been so long since I had sang it to her. And yet… **Falling into the spell of her voice, his head slowly fell to the bed, the musik taking over his senses.

"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.  
Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender.  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,  
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light -  
and listen to the music of the night …

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!  
And you'll live as you've never lived before,"

Christine pulled herself closer to Erik's body, feeling no warmth coming off of him, yet feeling heat blossom in her chest. Adjusting her head so that her mouth lay by his ear, she let her hand glide across the unmasked part of his face.

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you  
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,  
in this darkness that you know you cannot fight  
the darkness of the music of the night!"

Stroking the black hair out of his eyes, Christine gave way to a pool of reserved emotion, letting her voice soar through out the room like a powerful wave.

"Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!  
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before!  
Let your soul take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me,"

Drawing her hand down his chest and than back over his face, she closed her eyes, relishing his cool skin. _If there was ever a moment that I wished could last eternity, this would be it… _

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in  
To the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night"

Erik's voice echoed around the room as well, the final lyrics gaining complete power as it rose to it's fullest extent. Than, as if their godly power never existed, they dropped their voices to a whisper for only their ears to hear.

"You alone can make my song take flight  
Help me make the music of the night"

They ended, drawing their lips together in a passionate clash of love and longing. She moved closer to him, her hands streaming through his slicked back hair, heart racing. Erik's powerful arm encircled her waist, pressing her tightly to his chest. Never before had Christine ever wanted to give in to desire so badly, even with Raoul there was no such heat, no uncontrollable fierce desire to never let go and live eternally in the arms of each other. _Not now Raoul… _She thought agitatedly, but quickly forgetting him in her mad thirst for Erik's love. Her hand slid smoothly to Erik's mask, toying with the edges, threatening to rip it off.

Sensing this, Erik brought his skeletal hand to hers, pulling it away gently. His hands felt free among her rich curves and soft skin. With out thinking, Erik bit Christine's lip ever so softly. Almost shocked, Christine let a slight moan. Mistaking her moan of pleasure for pain, he released her lip, pulling away deeper into the fabrics of the pillow.

"D-Désolé Christine. I did not mean to hurt you.. Forgive me." Looking curiously at him, Christine gave a weak smile and pinned him to the bed, mischief brewing behind her glossy eyes. _He's almost as bad I was when I was first learning the language of love. _

"What is there to forgive when no wrong has been committed?" Tenderly, she bit his ear with her teeth, feeling him relax again, there lips meeting mid-way and merging passionately. Her hand slipped from her slippery perch and she lowered all her weight on to Erik clumsily.

"Désolé mon amour." she whispered in to his mouth. Her apology went unnoticed as the two kissed even more passionately, Christine's small body now resting on top him fully for support. The new contact she accidentally stumbled upon, caused excited tremors to flow down his back, he loved her tiny form on his body. Longed for more, but knew he had to restrain himself, he could never take Christine that far. He had to stay in his blissfully tormenting dream, getting only close enough to kiss and touch her. Nothing more. She was Raoul's and always would be. No matter how badly he hated it, she could never fully belong to him.

Icy cold air sprang across his right cheek suddenly. **No, Christine, how could you! Prying Pandora! **Pushing Christine to the bed he jumped off furious with her actions.

"Why must insist on seeing the face of a demon! Is it amusing to you to watch me suffer while you gawk at me? Speak mademoiselle! Your horror glistens fresh in your eyes and it pains me to be betrayed so. Beware the wrath of this 'beautiful angel', for he does not like his immortally 'blessed' face to be starred at with such hatred." He hissed sarcastically, glaring at her behind steely eyes, the porcelain walls which had been melted by musik returned, sealing them both off from each others passions.

Fury surged through Christine, flushing her hot cheeks.

"Oh lord in heaven, bring mercy upon the thick headed man in front of me! For although he seems to be that of a genius, remembering even the slightest of details of the most anonymous objects from decades past, he can not remember the words I spoke to him only a year ago!" She retorted angrily, bringing herself to knees, chest heaving with rage and fear. _What is wrong with me! Who knows what I might have urged Erik to do just now! My pride is as bad as his.. _

"Do you remember monsieur? Do you remember that night when I told you of my feelings toward your face?" The indignation of Christine's haughty attitude shocked him, yet enraged him more. His lips were furled into a deep scowl, his eyes flashing malice.

**This haunted face holds no horror for me now…** Her words echoed through his mind. Anger ebbing, he loosened his tight fist, starring at Christine with the same malice he has shown her moments before. Their eyes met and Erik almost gasped at the glossy surface of her eyes.** She cries in fear of my temper. You scare the only thing that is pure in your life, she does not need such violence to be used against her.**

**It's in your soul that the true distortion lies…**

His eyes threatened to leak over, but he held they back with dam made of fading anger.

"I told you that I didn't care what you looked like. In fact, I think you look better without this vain mask on. That just doesn't seem to be getting through to your self conscious head!" Spat Christine, her usually calm appearance, now gravely pale. Trying to hide her trembling hands, she stuffed them in the blankets of the bed, unable to hide the fact that she herself was shaking.

_ Now you've done it, you've really crossed the line this time! Look how furious he is… You can't keep your mouth shut for your life sometimes. Don't turn away now though, I must hold my ground! _

Silence.

_ God damn you, speak!_ With no response to her insults, she began to worry. The acrid salty taste of blood sprang from her lips, teeth embedded into the fleshy insides with insane nervousness. Minutes passed with the two in complete silence.

_ Why did I say those things! Every where he goes he's insulted, yet here I am, hurting him, the one he loves._ Erik's green eyes were locked with Christine's brown ones in a silent death match of who would last the longest.

_ With stand the pressure! With stand… Oh hell! I've had enough!_ Sighing into herself, she crumpled to the bed. Lifting an eyebrow in surprise, he watched his angel admit defeat

"Forgive me. I did not mean to upset you. I… just wanted to see mon ange in his true form.." Guilt flared in Erik's heart, his scowl vanishing to a frown. His shoulders drooped, "Christine, stop." He whispered.

His eyes grazed her frame, her auburn locks swaying in front of her face, masking her loss, her fists clenched tightly in front of her. Looking up from her apology, he stared, startled at the tear that dripped from her cheek. Guilt smacked him in the face, almost knocking him off balance.

"Don't cry, you know how much I hate it when you cry." He stammered, focusing on a rather interesting piece of fabric on his shoe.

"It is not your place to apologize for something you did not do. Forgive me… No one has ever cared for me as much as you and looked upon my naked face with love. I did not mean to upset you…" Two fingers pressed themselves against his lips, silencing him in to shock.

"I love you." She slid her warm palm over the bumps and ridges of Erik's face. Any anger that swelled in him before vanished, only his love for her remained. Closing his tear stained eyes, Erik let his head fall into her hands. Softly, she pressed her lips to his forehead.

"Come, I shall not have you collapsing on to the carpet in your state." Grabbing his hand, she led him to her bed, letting him sink gracefully into it's feathery confines. **She mistakes my anxious hope for exhaustion. Silly child… **Sleep was something Erik could do without, but for his angel's satisfaction, he would drift and seem like he was sleeping.

Holding back a grin, Erik let his eye lids droop farther and farther until it seemed that sleep had taken him. Ever so tenderly, she moved closer to her Phantom, wrapping a small arm around his shoulders. He thought he would explode when she kissed his lips.

"Sleep my ange de musique, dream to your hearts content." Resting her head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiate from her chest straight to his, she let her mind wonder..

_ A week… The best week of my life! No I can't say that. If I wasn't in love and engaged to Raoul, this might have been the best week f my life. Alas, this won't be able to last long. Burning guilt can only be pushed off for a limited time. I don't want to do it, but I know I have to. This can't go on when we're are married! Meaning sometime soon, I will have to confront Raoul. _Ice descended upon her heart that night, chilling her to the bone.


	7. Chapter 7

_Christine's thoughts_

Erik's thoughts

Raoul's thoughts

Disclaimer: Since I cannot own my dear, dear phantom, I will strive to make his life happier in the following chapters to come.

One month later………

Erik raised a sleepy eye lid and cast his gaze about the Louise Philippe room warily. Dark, gloomy, well kept, same old, same old. Nothing had changed since the last night, except… Something was not right. He shot up from the bed, alarmed and shouted, panic curdling his beautiful voice.

"Christine!"

No answer.

Oh god no, not yet, not again. The blood ran cold in his veins, freezing his heart and dropping it in to the pit of his stomach, the endless black hole of misery. He shot from the room like a maniac, losing all his cat like grace for the look of a drunken idiot. With the speed of mercury, Erik flew from the room, his mind racing with images of Raoul, kissing his sweet Christine, touching her, running his undeserving hands through her hair. He shuddered, bile rising in his throat.

"Christine! Christine, amour, CHRISTINE!"

Tears slid down his cheek now, falling in between his screaming lips. A clash of bitter salty tears and chocolate from the night before stormed in his mouth. His heart raced in his chest, beating at an uncontrollable pace, louder, louder, thundering in his ears. Still shouting her name, he tore the place down, shredding curtains, trampling artistic works, bringing his once elegant lair of harmonious morbidity to a dump.

Not now Christine, you still have so much time before you wed that bastard! His eyes blurred as the tears continued to spill over.

"Mon dieu Christine! Where are you, please! Christine…" His knees gave way to the ground as the anger hit him. With a roar of anger, he slammed his fist in to the stone floor. The pain of his broken heart over ruled the pain that blossomed on his still clenched fist.

How could she… How dare she! I gave her my undying love, my music, everything that ever meant something to her, and what does she do? Throws it all away for that fucking teenage boy with an intelligence lower than a resin's! This, this is preposterous, this.. She is truly a demon! Whore! All she did when she left was release me from her fiendish hold, I don't need her. She meant… nothing.

His heart shattered and he knew he lied to himself. She was his evening star, the one that you wished upon, that guided you through the darkest of nights. He was nothing but an empty shell without her and he knew it.

He closed his eyes, trying to will away the memory of her very existence. Just as they shut, they flew open again. Trembling, he picked up the piece of folded parchment. He held the note to his lips. Midnight lilac and rosemary met his senses, it was Christine, no doubt about it. Unfolding the letter, he read aloud to his broken soul:

_ Fantôme de mon Coeur, (Phantom of my heart)_

_ Désolé mon amour, but the time has come. I can not toy with the strings to your heart so carelessly as I did these past few weeks. It's not fair to you, nor Raoul. ( **Since when was it ever, and since when would that damné bâtard care, what with the little Giry by his side?) **You will always have a piece of my heart, for no matter how hard I might try, I'll always love you. No matter the circumstance. S'il vous plaît(please) forget me, move on! Come out of the darkness and bring true music back to Paris! Enlighten them with your genius, lord knows they need it!(he would have laughed if not for the current circumstances) I will bring you the wedding invitation as promised, a week from the wedding. ( a/-ok, ok, ok! I added a little Kay to it, couldn't help myself)I can understand if you could never forgive me, just please understand that I'm extremely sorry. Forgive me,_

_ Si long et bonne nuit,(so long and good night-mcr baby!)_

_ Christine_

When he finished reading the note he began to slowly tear it into agonizing pieces. A malevolent grin crossed his face as he totally murdered the neatly written letter. Wild crazes for blood lust crashed down upon his desires for his ange, smothering them for now.

His whole life he had searched for love, for someone to hold and savor the harsh years with and finally, out of the darkness of chaos, Christine had appeared to him, shinning with a light so great and powerful, it sent him to his knees, yet brought him the joys of heaven.

To have that light stolen from his grasp by an insolent rich boy was completely unnerving. A lasso appeared in his mind, taunting him with the delighting, yet mysterious temptations of death. Suicide, a blissfully haunting action. Peace through pain, something Erik thought of everyday.

One jump, two slits, a sip, all could easily end his misery on this god forsaken planet. No one would care, he was the phantom of the opera, not a person. A myth to frighten the corpse de ballet and the rest of the opera in to total submission to complete power over his musical domain, now charred to the ground.

Bitter, heart raking memories returned to him, it was only a few days ago, he held Christine in his arms, oh how she fit so well! So petite! Who knew such a tiny person could bring down such a powerful man as the Phantom of the Opera. She had held his calloused hand in her small pale ones, kissing the tips of his fingers. She had forced him to swear to her that he would never commit suicide. He had foolishly agreed before releasing the true beauty in taking ones own life.

His fingers shook violently as, like a dose of morphine, his body began to relax, numb with ideas of killing himself. His anger ebbed away, pain dissolving for another day. Morbid ideas twisted his thoughts into damnable death sentences.

A swing from the ropes, a bloody fate from a gun shot. His once green eyes that dance with fire, glazed over with a sick passion for the afterlife. With a quick jerk of his wrist, he tore the last shred of paper, without a care in the world.

The pieces of my heart, doomed to never love again.

What the brilliant shadow like figure did not notice, were the tear stains permanently embedded into the now disemboweled letter, the tears of mourning love, that of the most exquisite of kinds. The tears of a love so deep, the victim of such a haunting despair, could never be rid of it, even beyond death.

_--------------------------------------------------------+---------------------------------------------------_

Christine paced nervously throughout fashionably dysfunctional room. Her eyes were red and blood shot from tears and whiskey. Alcohol seemed to be the only way the to get the opera ghost out of her head. Her insides rolled, creating turmoil in her lower abdomen. The liquor was wearing off and the horrid emotions began to deluge her senses. A tear escaped from the brown prisons in which it was held captive and rolled in a desperate attempt for freedom down her cheek. It reached the tip of chin before being furiously wiped away.

_ No more tears, the time for grief has come and pass. That which to come will surely be violence, anguish, and a broken relationship. Oh joy…_ She thought sarcastically. It had only been a few hours since she had left Erik's lair.

_ People must think me mentally insane, I looked like a mad woman coming back to this dungeon of a manor. _Indeed she had, the minute she had crept through the opera house, she had burst out of the place howling like a maniac. Tears, sobs, and all. Clover galloped all the way home and she frightened the stable boy with her incoherent ramblings of fallen angels and desperate fiancés. She heaved a sigh, a nerve racking sigh that was not really a sigh at all, but half a sob, half a growl of excruciating anger/pain

_ You've really done it this time fool… _She expected to feel annoyed with herself, maybe another fit of tears even, but this time there was nothing. Except.. The feeling of maturity. The pitiful, witless child had evolved. Fear and self pity were not a factor for her any more. Spreading her wings, she realized, she could fly.

_ Please say he believed the note, say he forgets me. Mon Dieu, help me through this! Grant me valor and wisdom so that I might find the right pathway to happiness. Help us all… _Christine wrote her letter, hoping it would seem cold, wanting him to hate her for what she did.

_ It's easier to forget the ones you hate. I shouldn't have left the note, I should of told him face to face! But than… Who knows what he would have done, follow me home, kill Raoul, kill me. _Her head dropped into the palm of her hands.

"Dieu…" _Make him believe I'm no better than any other whore, than it's much more easier to forget about me. I felt no love for him anyways, just extreme amounts of lust and pity._

If her heart would speak, it would have sworn the whole alphabet of swear words, in every language at her lying self. Despair arouse in her gut, but she pushed the feelings of tormented love away. Raoul's carriage pulled up to the front gates, sending Christine to her feet and to the balcony.

"It's time." she murmured to herself, bile rising to her throat once more. Tremors of terror sped up and down her spine sending little tornadoes of dizzy spells through her head. Fear is a deadly poison. It can turn the fiercest of men into screeching cowards. Force one's will, stop wars, even bring oneself to face suicide. That is what flowed through mademoiselle Daae's veins. She wasn't frightened of the harsh words they would be using against each other, nor the lies, the hatred rendered, but of Raoul's self restraint level.I've seen him angry, but this war of hearts might get the better of him. He showed no restraint once before when he hit me for my ignorance, but this… Full blown betrayal still partially in bloom! I fear there might be blood shed. With that, she ran to the mantel and ripped the musket off the wall hastily, stuffing it in her drawer. Thinking the coast was clear, she stared in horror at the silver pocket knife at the side of the bed as the door creaked open suddenly.

With a running bound, she dove at the nightstand, knocking over the bottle of ink and stack of parchment. Raoul watched, extremely bewildered as his bride to be threw a small glittering object out the gaping window.

"What was that Christine?" he asked worriedly, rushing to her side. He put a soothing hand on her back which she instantly pulled away from. Raoul's blue eyes nearly popped out of his head at the temperature of her skin. It was felt like touching ice for minutes, before your fingers fall off from frostbite.

Gasping slightly, he took in full view of his Lotte. She was paler than normally, the usually smiling mouth was set in a grim pose, her eyes were blood shot with a haunted expression of sorrow etching them slightly causing him to tremble with something like fear. She looked like she had seen a specter, or had become one. The only thing separating her from the realms of darkness, were the luxurious auburn locks.

"Christine, your freezing! Come, take this blanket. Are you all right? You seem a bit woozy, sort of like a ghost!" He tried lightening the mood with a little joke, it had always worked before. He waited for her charming smile and little girlish blush to come back and save her complexion from the corpse world, but she merely raised a brow, making her look like a sarcastic apparition.

He offered her the small blanket from the bottom of the bed.

No reaction.

She just stood there, letting the silence soak into them.

"I have a confession to make." Her whisper was barely audible in the thick silence that lay over them like a blanket. Worry shot through his mind,

Does she know? She can't know, I've hidden my tracks to well. He felt like grinning at all his clever precautions, but decided against it, seeing as it was not the moment.

"What is it mon cher?"

_ Too late for what ifs and never minds. You've passed the point of no return. _A dull aching grew in the pit of her stomach.

"You've been gone so long these past couple of months, so distant and unfamiliar, that I.. grew lonely. I felt caged, suffocated in this majestic asylum, waiting for something, anything to change. I grew empty, so empty that.."

"You didn't." Raoul took a step back, his blue eyes widening in horror. Rage burned the edges of his heart, charring them to a fine ash.

"I reached out for someone to help me in my slow decay."

"Who?" He shot out coldly.

How dare that little whore! The question shocked Christine momentarily. A knot twisted in her gut, forcefully. To involve Erik in to their cruel debate was like a sin, she not only endangered him, but ridiculed him as the pitiful creature he strove not to be.

"It does not matter who.."

"It does damnit! Who shamelessly took your innocence? Who?" He roared, the volcano of madness erupting and spewing over. Rage took a stab at Christine, along with shame.

"I did not give myself to him like that! To insult my faith so openly without further evidence is low, even for you." His hand whipped out and met Christine's cheek forcefully. Her cheek fell to the side as tears stung her eyes. She refused to let them fall, to admit weakness to him was an automatic defeat. It wouldn't happen.

With a small shout of anger, she let her hand fly and smash into his face with a loud crack that stunned even her. She shook violently as Raoul let out a string of curses. A bubble of anger burst from within her, sending caution to the winds, Christine exploded in full power.

"How dare you insult me after what you have done! Don't think that I don't know about you and Meg, I can see now! The lip stick on your collar, I'm no fool Raoul De Changy. I know what you've been up to." He froze, his and flying to his collar.

Silence.

"How long?" He rasped, finding his voice through the fogs of shock.

"I've known a few months now." Her voice was soft, but firm. The new morbid confidence that arose out of no where in his Little Lotte, frightened and astounded him. The little naïve ballet brat had ceased to exist and her replacment, still had yet to be studied.

"Oh."

Silence.

"Listen to me, if we are ever going to make this marriage work, you need to learn to forgive and trust each other. That is, if you still have the desire to marry me and not Meg." Christine's tone was icy, a reminder that their relationship was at stake. He shook himself a little, before coming back to his senses.

"Of course mon petite! Even if I did…what I did, I've always loved you. That I can assure you." Anxiety and a slight pain surged in her mind.

"And in a marriage, the two must learn honesty. You heart might have desired me , but that love was shared with Meg. I don't want to fight for your affection with Meg…"

"You won't have to, I love you! I don't want to marry Meg!" A tear slid down his cheek and he caught and held Christine's gaze. Two brown stone carvings stared back at him, encasing him in a thick blanket of unseen pain.

Her gaze was barren, like a lonely desert that lived only for the break of the sun, the only warmth it would ever receive without buildings and life to keep it alive. Blood seeped onto the tip of his tongue from biting back a gasp for so long. Everything about his Lotte was different.

"Doux Lotte, please forgive me, lets start all over! No more Paris, no more bad memories, lets both turn over a new leaf! Please Christine." Another tear escaped their blue encasings and dribbled effortlessly down his clean shaven cheek. The solid barrier of betrayal broke, releasing a fresh deluge of emotions.Do not give in! Do not let him get off so easily, you can't you…

"I will forgive you, if you find it in yourself to forgive me!" she chocked back a sob.

"You've already been forgiven, Lotte."

"Please don't call me that." Raoul halted in his tracks to hold Christine.

"What?"

"Little Lotte died with my father, so please be kind and leave the deceased in peace." An appalled and almost hurt look crossed Raoul's face just for a moment, than with ease filled the space between them to give her a chastise kiss on the lips. She felt breathless as their lips met, but not from his lips that pressed against hers, but from the ease of the turmoil_.He passed it on as if it were just a mere flaw in his perfect life, a nosy fly easily taken care of. He just… Gave up, barely a fight! Did he even feel anything?_ The urge to push Raoul away was over looked as he himself took off for his closet.

"I never meant to hurt you my love, I really didn't." He removed a blue night shirt from the closet as though it were glass and hummed a catchy tune. Rage fumed in Christine as she recognized the song. The song she and Erik first sang when they had first met was clumsily being hummed by her fiancé. And off key too.

"Than why the hell did you do it!" Raoul spun awe struck as his little wife bubbled over with fierce anger.

"Madame Giry simply needed comfort at a time when her mother was ill! Things just got a little out of hand, Meg persuaded me to continue and…"

"Meg has been my friend for years! She would never steal the man I love away from me!" A new feeling was brought out in Raoul. Concern. It shadowed his face, shown in his eyes.

That wasn't a horrible fight moments ago, just was just the drizzle before the storm!

_ "_It wasn't Meg who provoked you to stay with her, it was the other way around! I've read the letters, Raoul! I've seen how you've fallen in love with her." Christine breathed in quickly, the colors in Raoul's face changing to dark red.

"Excuse Me, but what right have you to throw around my heart like that!"

"You love her."

"I do…"

"You love her and you know it." Christine's fists clenched and unclenched in frustration.

Silence.

"Yes. I do." Christine bit her lip, dull dismay sinking into her heart.

"At least I loved her Christine, you went to him out of spite!" Christine shot out of her sudden depression. Her voice was cold and dark.

"That is non of your business whether or not I loved him! You…"

"Too late mon cheire, who was it? TELL ME!" He ragged, throwing down his precious night shirt. Another knife struck her heart, a direct hit.

"Leave him out of this! He need not be part of our damned tirade!" Her hard words softened at the end, leaving Raoul and her both a bit puzzled.

"Too late! Who took you Christine? Who or I swear I'll…"

"You'll kill him if I tell you! I'm no fool Raoul." _Like you could ever bring Erik any harm! His I.Q is about a 100 points higher than yours._ Her tone was grim and hurt. Tears smashed against the back of her eyes, demanding to be released, but with no progress. He sighed dejectedly.

"I would never… I won't kill him. I'm no barbaric monster. I promise you that."_ He wants to! I can see it in his eyes… But he would never go back upon his word. Erik forgive me…_

"His name is…"

"Yes?" His 'yes' was too polite, no way in hell was she going to tell him now.

"Raoul, he.."

_"_God forbid! He was probably some lazy bum looking for a nice young girl to get close to.."

"IT WAS ERIK, GOD DAMN YOU!" She heard the air exit Raoul's lungs. It abandoned her own, leaving her with a dull aching feeling.

"Who?" he said weakly, blood draining from his face.

"Erik, do you not remember him mon doux(sweet)?"she hissed bitterly.

_ "_You went to that monster!" A purple vein pulsed viciously on his forehead, threatening to pop at any moment. Christine concentrated on it, seeing on how long till it burst. Anything to distract the horrid aching deep in her gut.

"Yes Raoul, I went and fell in l…"

_Fucking Imbecile! _Both their pallor's paled immensely, leaving two corpses standing in the room.

_"_What was that last thing you said?" he shot sharply at her now quivering form

_ "_I… fell in love with him." She chocked, drawing courage from thin air. Raoul's fist flew through the air, colliding in to the wall with a loud wham!

_a/n- this will be an eventual e/c. sorry I couldn't get this out earlier, recent tragedies stood in my way of it's completion, this time I promise the next chapter will come much more quickly. Thank you for the kind reviews. Christine does love Raoul, I just have to bring that in to further detail for the few who didn't understand. My apologies._


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any PoTo characters or Erik… but he owns me. Also, the song Wishing youWere Somehow Here Agianbelongs to poto, but i just toyed around with it. The last song belongs to key to arson btw, i thought it would fit in nicely with the story._

Christine jumped about a mile into the air when she heard a hideous crack of breaking bones. Gasping she flew towards the swearing Raoul.

"Mon Dieu! What are you trying to do! How badly did you hurt yourself?"

"The Phantom of the God damned Opera Christine! That murdering damné bâtard…"

"Silence you horrid fool! You know not of what divinity you speak of ignorant child! Hold your tongue on things you don't understand." Her concerned air of pity and inner valor dissolved into a fuming dark winged descendent of death that suddenly announced it's presence in the dispersing light. Narrowing her brown eyes to malevolent slits, she pursed her lips dangerously.

"Excuse me mademoiselle, but a face like that should and will burn in the deepest pits of hell!" he spat, wishing he could suck the poison he just injected right out of the air in which they hung. A rush of panic swept over his form as Christine bubbled and foamed with rage.

It was a flame just as strong as desire, and it burned mercilessly inside her of her heart, drawing strength from everything around her. The bowels of hell reflected in her eyes, dancing to the furious rhythm of her heart. Drawing herself to her full height, she spoke words of ice that cut through space between them like daggers.

"How vain can one be! Have you not learned your lesson yet, mon petite? Can you not see what lies deep in the core of a person? Beyond looks, money, and class? Did you not grow old enough to see that true beauty lies in ones soul!" Black clouds seemed to hover over her head, giving her devils wings and the look of a fallen angel. He was now on his knees, shaking, cowering in the face of the immortal in front of him. Smirking, she thrust her fingers through her hair triumphantly.

"If one was not so overindulged in the pleasures of life maybe one would see this art painted by purity! Is that why you love me, because I'm nice to look at?" Her voice dripped with venom, made worse by the distorted transformation of it's angelic sound.

"I'm no prize to be won, little boy. Did you think that you could rule me with an iron fist? I'm no child, no stupid ballet brat, nor common whore, mon doux!" She hissed sarcastically.

The hold over such a stronger _physical _being was intoxicating and she drank from this new pool of power greedily, as though she would never be able to quench this thirst again.

_He reeks of fear! Perhaps now you'll appreciate me for who I am! You can not control me._

_You can not control me.  
_

_I control you._

She gasped, appalled with herself. A pale hand flew over to her mouth and her eyes widened at the cruelty she spit out so easily. Her demonic rage subsided, recoiling itself deep within herself to fall back into slumber and wait for the next time it would be aroused. Guilty confusion over whelmed her pride, crushing it so it would not interfere for a while.

_What is happening to me? What have I become?_

"I am a monster!" Her whisper was barely audible in the pressing silence, but loud enough that he could here her sorrowful call. Raoul looked up from his tear soaked palms to gaze frighteningly at the quivering form of a broken woman in front of him. She was Christine again, he noted, staring dumbstruck at the hem of her skirts.

Such truths and lies! Such power, enough to take me down in to her chasms of doom. What have I done!

"Raoul! I'm.. I'm s-so sorry! Désolé mon amour! I-I don't know what came over me! Please, forgive me for such cruelty… I know you love me, I have never doubted it for a minute. I.. Please.." she closed her eyes, pondering why she had gone through that transformation. Guilt clouded her thoughts and rained acid upon her heart.

Silence.

Raoul stared without emotion at the woman before him. Quivering in the sudden darkness, begging forgiveness. His expression softened to that of pity. He heaved a sigh, breaking the silence between them. She looked up, her eyes watering over.

"The one possessed with this sin of vanity is not you, but me. For taking what I have and hold so dear to me for granted. You deserve better than me Raoul! Go, marry Meg. Be happy…"

"NO!" Christine was encased suddenly in his soft embrace. She stared at his head, confounded and broken hearted. Their bodies radiated the needed warmth that dissolved when their conflict began, healing the jagged wound in their relationship.

"Don't leave me Christine, you can't! I love you and refuse to let you go! The Father who rules over us is ever forgiving and so I shall follow in his path and forgive those who have done wrong, can you say the same for me?" His voice cracked, as he held back tears. His lips met hers in a passionate kiss till she finally broke the spell that bound them.

"Thank you. I can." She smiled shyly meeting is lips once more.

"Come to bed Christine, you are tired. We will discuss this further in the morning." He stood and helped her to her feet. Christine turned around and undressed, pulling on a cotton night dress.

_ It's all over and yet is just beginning. Somehow it doesn't feel right, like something's missing. I shouldn't think in to this much further, I'll go insane if I do. Tomorrow I will let my mind wonder, when things are fully sorted out. For now, I'll let this chaos rest… And I will not think about Erik! _

She told herself firmly. She would never admit it to herself, but she still loved Erik with a burning passion, still needed him by her side, still thrived off his very existence. Still felt incomplete without her angel. Little knives drew slits in the core of soul, but she ignored the pain, concentrating on Raoul, who sat up right, waiting.

She sighed, wishing the dull ache that settled in her gut would vanish. The last desperate flickering glow of a candle died, leaving them in a dark silence. An arm snaked around her waist casually and rested it's weight on her, going slack. Deep snores drowned from Raoul's throat, little drops of spittle leaking out the side of his mouth.

_Oh dear lord! He sounds as if he's setting off an explosive! It's a wonder if I'd ever sleep tonight. Oh well, might as well try…_

Behind closed lids, images of suffocating Raoul to save the peace became almost irresistible until she drove herself to open balcony to stop her harsh motives. The balcony stretched far out in to the night, a few potted plants sat dying in the coroners.

The cold bit her skin through her thing cotton nightgown. Shivering, she sat down on the edge, smoothing her skirts in comfort to the hollow feeling that was taking over her.

"Angel in heaven blessed,

My spirit longs with me to rest!"

She mouthed the last words as her tears broke free, her little melody dying in the silence. Little beads found there way into the crevice of her lips and mingled unpleasantly with metallic taste of blood. Sobs threatened to escape, but were reluctantly held back by better judgment. If Raoul were to awake to find her weeping for her ex-love, she didn't even want to know what would happen.

Instead, she let her loss shine on her cheeks in immodest sorrow. Her cheek still throbbed from Raoul's merciful slap, sending little daggers through her mind until a dull headache began to form. In her mind she relished the hit, all her pain and emotion climaxing to that one point where it could no longer restrain the agonizing fire that burned deep within the very core of her broken soul.

"Erik!" she whispered breathlessly to the tree branch that lazily brushed by her ear. Mentally scolding herself for her inability to realize that Erik was never coming back, she once again felt the emptiness, the black hole start to take over her, sending her in to the hollow state of mind she found herself when she thought of her father. Except, this feeling was deeper than fatherly love, much deeper.

Although she couldn't tell.

_ Oh mon ange, I'll never forget you, I never will. It's impossible, literally impossible. Father in heaven, bring him sanctuary. Erase me from his endless mind and help him find faith. He needs you right now. Save him, my lost love? Friend? I don't know what to call him any more… Save my… Save my companion. _

The last glittering, smooth tear, streaked down her face like melting ice. Soft words found the way to her lips, laced with her rich voice she began to pay homage to her beloved music teacher.

"You were once  
my one companion . . .  
you were all  
that mattered . . .  
You were once  
a friend and phantom -  
then our world was shattered. . .

Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
wishing you were  
somehow near . . .  
Although you've been deemed

King of my dreams,

Time shows us friend ship is clear . . .

Wishing I could  
hear your voice again . . .  
knowing that I  
never would . . .  
Dreaming of you  
won't help me to do  
all that you dreamed  
I could . . .

Porcelain masks

and sculpted angels,  
cold but sentimental,  
seemed, for you,  
the - hopeless champion  
you were warm and gentle . . .

Too many years  
fighting back tears . . .  
Why can't the past  
just die . . .?

Wishing you were  
somehow here again . . .  
knowing we must  
say goodbye . . .  
Wished he'd forgive. . .  
Help us to live,  
give him the strength  
to try . . .

No more memories,  
just wingless flights. . .  
No more gazing across  
the passionate nights. . .  
Help me say  
goodbye.

_Help me say _

_Good bye!"_

Her voice rose and grazed the gates to heaven as the whole house woke up to here her last, anguished note. All her grief was thrust into her song, forcing her smooth whisper to be transformed into a passionate rapture for the soul and body. All was silent. Every one was wide awake, too stunned, too moved to move.

The voice of the immortal had spoken. It poisoned them with her depressed melodies, showed them how it felt to be lost and not even know it. Raoul glared at the balcony, mentally forcing Christine to stop, wishing that the pitiless music would die and release him from it's damned tortures. But when it did finish on her soft note, he wished it would never stop. The harshness of her beauty was overwhelming.

She really does love that.. _thing._ This hold he has on her will never break, will never cease it's insistent pleas! Will she ever truly give me a piece to her heart?

_Perhaps now I can put your memory to rest angel. _

Pale moonlight stretched across her tear stained cheek, reflecting the black pits in her eyes, now traced with a warm light. One that would fade with break of dawn…

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Meanwhile, Erik sat below the balcony, starring awe struck at the dull gray stone as if he were in a trance. Blue flames danced in his eyes, undimmed by the icy darkness. Fat wet drops fell from them, glistening on the rims of his mask. Bile rose in his throat and his insides quaked. She had not been the heartless whore he hoped her. Far from it in fact, she had loved him, and not just for his touch.

"Wondering child,

so lost, so helpless,

Yearning for my guidance."

The thorn of the red rose he held in his hand bit into the soft flesh of his palm. Gritting his teeth, he dove it deeper within the skin, a thin trail of blood oozing out. Little shots of pain ran through his hand until he was fully content. Maddening betrayal glowed fresh in his eyes, spreading livid throughout his body. Another tear slid down his face as guilt prodded at his mind.

**I could never accuse my ange of something so distasteful. She could never harm someone like that.**

**In a way she did though.** A small, logical voice in the back of his mind spoke.

**But she _loved _me. She didn't do it just out of lust, especially when the man she desires is a monster.**

**If she loved you, why did she leave you? Again?** Piped up the mocking voice.

** Because… I am the ange of mort.(death) Because no one can truly love this pitiful excuse for a human being. An insult to the race. Because I cannot give her everything she truly requires.** For the first time in a while, Erik gave in.

Minutes turned into hours, the silence deafening. The pain seeped into his heart, poisoning it with her betrayal. The pain turned into something less complex, hate. Every tiny inch of Christine, every part of her was damned in his mind. He still loved her, but hated her just as much.

Pocketing the rose, he gave Christine one last glance before gapping in horror. Flying from his crouched position, he leaped into the air frantically. She fell into his arms, knocking him in to the thorn bushes. Little thorns ripped into his flesh like needles and a low growl emitted from his throat.

** Foolish girl! You could have killed yourself!** Fear ebbed away and left him with a feeling, reminding him some what of peace. Christine stirred in his arms, apparently unaffected by the fall. She was feather light, a pale goddess in the moon light. If he could only…

"No!" He dropped Christine on to the ground and fled not caring to give a backward glance.

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"Where the bloody hell am I!" She moaned lifting a sleepy eye. The sun shone brightly on her eyes mercilessly. She shut it tightly, breathing the heavy aroma of the grass.

_ Smart Christine, go and fall off the bloody ledge! How clever… And you didn't even wake up when you hit the ground! That is just pathetic… Or did I wake?_ She raked her brain; nothing.

_ Brilliant…_ Scolding herself, she lifted her body off the dew wet ground. A big green stain splotched her side and a purple bruise was forming on her elbow.

"Damnable sun…" Shielding her eyes, she trudged back to the front door.

"Oh this morning is bound to be a bloody blast!" She yelled at the locked door knob exasperatedly.

_ This should be fun to explain…_ She slammed her tiny fist against the great oak door. Several minutes passed, with some explicit muttering, with no answer. She tried again, only harder. All was quite. Frustration boiled up in her stomach, making her every bit as frightening as a psychotic murderer. She punched the door until her knuckles began to bleed.

_Why aren't they answering! It's past dawn, at least one servant should be here!_ Storming over to the balcony, she shouted softly so as not to wake the neighbors.

"Raoul! Please wake up! I'm in a bit of a rut! Raoul!"

More loud snores echoed from above. Growling, she called again, and again, and even threw rocks and other objects to wake him up, but he snored on.

_How can you sleep through that! How can a maid…_

"Oh yes, I gave them the day off."

_Brilliant…_Sighing, she gave in, walking around the entire household, trying to find a way to enter.

"The day they don't forget to lock a door is the day I fall off the balcony!" Muttering obscenities, she fell deep into thought. It looked to be early in the morning, around 5 or 6, meaning Raoul, who slept in as late as possible on the weekends, would not wake for hours. Climbing up the balcony was out of the question, it was too high and the vines she could climb on were dying. No good would come from sitting around on the porch, what would the neighbors say? The last thing the De Changy family needed was another juicy rumor going around about corruption of linage.

Sighing, she thrust her head in her hands. She was cold, wet and PMSing. This day wasn't going to be as good as she thought it was. She collapsed under the balcony in defeat, her fists clenching and unclenching. After a while, she began singing, ever so softly, gradually growing louder but not loud enough that she could be easily heard. Although her body shook with the cold, a small burst of warmth erupted in her gut. Closing her eyes, she let the music take her away.

"Will you give me a reason,

To live another day,

Will you show me the courage to rise above it all,

Will you be there for me when I am down,

Will you make it better…"

"Christine! What in the name of the lord are you doing out here?"

**A/n: all right, this last part was a little weird, but I couldn't help it! Something weird always has to happen in these things. I am very sorry for not updating sooner, things have been hectic. I promise I'll get the next chapter out much sooner. It will be longer and way more interesting too! Roses for reviewers! **


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9 **_

Disclaimer: I do not own the phantom of the opera…(tears)

A hazy mist blocked his gaze, although he didn't care. He was alone again, sitting in his pitch black lair. All was silence, nothing moved, except for his arm which lazily pressed a thin needle in to one of his veins.

A dreamy smile slid across his face and his eyes remained half open, half closed. A tiny drip of crimson blood sailed down his arm, a deadly reminder that he had not finished injecting the morphine. Meaning, his dream world lie just beyond the press of the stinging needle.

With a gently push, he shoved the drug into his vein, a soft chuckle erupting from his throat. He was almost there! The effect was taking an agonizingly slow pace, but he was almost there. The bloody needle fell from his hand and clattered loudly to the floor. Colors swirled before his eyes, some of the deepest greens to the lightest of blues. He could hear the beating of his heart, the rapid melody slowing to a soft hum. His body went slack and he finally, to his delight, fell into the addicting dream world he could not live without.

Here, anything could happen. Here, he was the master and all those who had hurt him, were the dogs. Here Christine loved him and had let him kill that bastard she was set to wed. Here, he has a normal, beautiful face. Perhaps that's why he liked his world so much, the ability to see a normal Erik without the accursed deformity hanging on to his face. He lifted himself off the floor and stumbled to his organ. Slamming his fingers onto the keys, he listened to the haunting melody blend with the beat of his heart.

Insanity swirled throughout the caverns, bellowing at the heavens, shaking the ceiling with it's force. It was sweet, intoxicating, yet sorrowful at the same thing. He stopped, breathing heavily although he didn't do much and waited.

All was silent.

** Where is she! **

"Christine!" he called innocently. She should have been there by now, as she had always had. Not the real Christine of course, but morphine Christine. The one that always joined him at the organ and sang to him with her pure voice until he fell into his drug induced sleep. Although, this time, she didn't come.

The ceiling glistened and little wispy angels fluttered around them and in to the diamond filled water which seemed to jump up and eat them alive. His eyes glazed over as he studied them, watching enviously as they darted across the room. Drawing in a deep breath he reminisced in the air that could almost take his breath away, the scent was that amazing! Like a roses and lilacs… The scent of Christine.

"Chr-Christine? Where are you my sweet?" All was silent and a tear slid down his face. Now huddling close to himself he began muttering under his breath,

"Where.. Where is she! She should be here, I need her! I want her, sing.. Sing!" He shouted the last word as loud as he could before crumbling into the piano bench. She was forgotten instantly as he began to sing to himself, over and over, that same little tune that echoed around the cave like a little angelic whirl wind. It captured his attention and held it, fixating the rest of his clouded mind on it. It began to drive him insane, the constant echoes, though he dare not stop.

The music must never stop or it would leave him forever. Over and over he sang, his eyes tearing, s little bead of sweat rolled into his eye, but still he continued. He ripped at the cloak, shredding it violently. Minutes passed of the slow agonizing tune, his chest now bare. His mind screamed at him to stop, but he didn't.

He ripped at his chest sending stabbing pain to his chest. Everything suddenly darkened, darker still.

** The music must not… STOP!** He jumped off the chair, falling to the floor, his vision spinning with past memories. He jerked back and forward, still singing, though now, the music was raspy and worn

The cold stone bit into his back, it was too dark, his eyes rolled in to the back of his head, begging for the sweet release of sleep. He lie their motionless, finally drifting into a restless sleep. It still echoed in his mind, that song… that song that _she_ sang, that he would never forget.

"He'll always be there singing songs in my head…."

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_ He'll always be there singing songs in my head…_ Christine shot her head out of her hand abruptly, glancing wildly around for Raoul.

"Wha…. What was that?" She sputtered, meeting his eyes across the table.

"Oh my, my, Christine! Always drifting off in the middle of important conversations! How will you ever become an appropriate vicomtess if you don't use these!" He reached across the table and gave her ears a little tug jokingly.

"Well I'll just go and read a book about it than. It's called, _How to be el Perfect Vicomtess in the eyes of Raoul_" She said sarcastically, but seeing the look on his face, gave him a slight smile. His breath was ragged and had a nice pink rue over his cheeks.

"Upon your request, I have chosen what the cooks will be preparing on our wedding day!" He said almost all to excited. He nearly tripped and fell off his seat when he bounded around to show her an intricate piece of fabric he would be ordering for some odd part of the wedding, although it was totally unnecessary. Christine forgot half the things he would say, seeing as they always seemed to drift off the wedding topics.

"Are you sure your feeling all right?" she had asked him earlier when she thought he was looking a little too red. He had shocked immensely, to the point where she almost behaved un-lady like and let her jaw drop. Jumping out of his chair, he criticized her for questioning his decision, saying he was a far better judge on fine cuisine than she would ever be. He had of course apologized the minute he saw the demon pop back into her eyes, but she had given him the choice of choosing the food matter anyway.

"Are you sure you are alright? You look awfully tired. Perhaps we should stop just for a while and you could get some rest…"

"St-stop! Are you mad Christine! It is only a 2 bloody months before we wed! We can't put this off! You stupid woman! Have you no idea how this needed! IN fact, all women are down right bloody ignorant wenches…" With that, Christine lunged out of her chair and turned to grab Raoul by the scruff of his neck. Fire blazed in her eyes, the dark angel resurfacing.

"How dare…" The look of sheer panic in his eyes washed all the evil out of her, replacing it with concern. The lively blue orbs were glazed over with sickness and fear, little crows feet etched in to the sides of his young handsome face. Heat radiated off his coat collar and her pale hand instantly went to his head. She fought back a grimace and stroked the side of his face. It burned to touch him for so long!

"Raoul, sweet, forgive me for that little out burst, but now. Come! Go to bed, you're burning up, come!" She whispered urgently to his reddening face. The grimace on his face turned to a sneer as he gave her an vicious glare.

"De Changys, do not get ill, mademoiselle!" With a forced grunt he pushed her aside, sending her to the floor. Her face met wood as she slapped the ground. Not far behind her she heard a rasped 'help!" and a very loud thud.

"Raoul!" She shrieked running to is crumpled form. Her heart raced, his body quivered and he mouthed something along the lines of,

"Only family can come…" A tear fell from her eye, dribbling elegantly down her chin.

"Help! Maids! Maria! Help me!" The muscles in her body screamed as she attempted to lift Raoul off the kitchen floor. Two servants burst into the room, Maria being one of them and rushed to her.

"Mademoiselle Christine! What happened?" Said Maria, bending over to look at the twitching sweaty heap in her arms.

"He-he collapsed and… He's dreadfully ill! We need to get him to a bed… I need to get a doctor!" Three other servants flooded in and removed Raoul from her trembling arms. She let go reluctantly, trailing behind the men as they made their way to his room.

"Mademoiselle! You must get a doctor, NOW!" barked a maid sharply, blocking the door way to the room. Nodding grimly, she took the stairs two at a time and rushing out the door to fetch Clover.

"Ride!" She whispered darkly into the horses ear, nudging his sides gently. Sensing the hostility in her voice, Clover fled. All the while, Christine could not stop thinking off Raoul's health.

_ Do not let him die on me! I love him, he is like a brother to me and I can't let him die like this! Please keep him safe my lord! Please…_ A little buzzer went off in her brain_. 'A brother! He's your fiancé, not just a brother!'_ It told her firmly. Her heart nearly flew out of her chest to protest at this but with a stronger will, she pushed that topic in to the back of her thoughts to think about on a dank rainy day.

The minutes passed, feeling more like hours to Christine's heavy heart when she finally reached the village. She spotted Meg, looking quite disturbed and restless, a bit edgy and pale. Her weird attitude went unnoticed to Christine as she leapt from the horse. Meg yelped in horror as Christine landed with a graceful thud besides her. With a gasp, Meg fell to the park bench beside her panting,

"Christine! Thank heavens it's you! Look we must talk, I have something awful to confess to you!"

"No time Meg! I already know, where is the doctor? Is he with your maman?" Seeing the there's-no-time-for-chats-or-any-other-forms-of-frivoulus-and/or-important-information mood about her, Meg just pointed towards the small café at the end of the street where she had just met him to talk about her mother's health.

"Thanks!" With that, she climbed back onto the horse and set off down the street.

**Earlier…..**

Everything was dark in his lair. No shadows, no movement, nothing. Except for the throbbing pains in his head and arm. Groaning, he slicked back his frazzled black hair and tried to recall the events from the morphine. His mind went blank.

** I must stop using so much at a time! It will run out much faster…** A low growl emitted from his throat, deep and dangerous. He held the empty container before his face, glaring at it as though, if he starred long enough, it would magically refill.

** Stop fooling yourself! You had to go up to the surface sooner or later.** Sighing, he lifted himself groggily off the stone floor, adjusting his eye sight to the gloom around him. Like a bullet, the same addictive pains hit his gut, begging for more off the soothing drug.

"Damn." he swore under his breath. He would be resurfacing sooner than he thought. He dressed hastily and wandered through the disserted tunnels until… He hissed a series of colorful language under his breath as the sun captured his frame. The bright shinning ball in the sky rained it's unholy light on to his pale skin. It burned his eyes and heated his mask and body till where he was sweating.

"Cursed bloody sun! My addiction is controllong me almost as much as my dear Christine did...!" He stiffend up suddenly, reaching his full height. On the outside, his pride won the war against the heart, but inside, his ferociuos pride sould never lift a finger to the bloody mass that was left of his heart. It dared not even get close to his heart, for fear of unwanted pain and horrible self pity. Putting up his hood, he his in the small shadows and alleyways, trying to remain unnoticed.

Alas, Erik's luck was wearing thinner and thinner because people did notice him. He couldn't blame them though, the thought that someone would be fully clothed and hooded in this sweltering weather was preposterous! He could, on the other hand, hate them with a fiery passion.

** If they only knew… They probably still wouldn't bloody care!** he mused silently to himself, as he passed a café on the edge of an immense park. It was covered in weeping willows and would be hard for someone to find him in the maze of green tentacles. As he was about to cross the street, he over heard a conversation that brought forth all of his undividedattention.

"…your mother, the Madame Antoinette Giry." He paused hearing his dear friend's name being uttered. Quickly and quietly, he strode into the corner café, taking a seat at a table not far from the two conversing and opened up a news paper. Meg Giry and a red haired man, around 30, quite attractive sat conversing softly. Meg smiled and winked at the red head.

Erik's mind instantly flashed to one conclusion: Another deceitful relationship. **That girl has got to learn some control! She's already got… well had Raoul, and barely 2 days later, she's got another one! Where is her mother to put her in her place? **Dying for the answer, he listened intently, hanging on their every word.

"She will get over the disease, won't she? I mean.. it is curable, correct?" Meg's voice shook slightly with panic. Her finger nails were almost completely gnawed off and little red marks lined the cuticles.

** Disease?… Madame… No, it can't be! She's much too cocky to bring this upon herself. It cannot be!** His mind set to work trying to convince himself that it was another person, but his conscious said otherwise**. You already know what is to come, telling yourself lies does no good whatsoever. Except make you look even more like a dim witted fool.** Erik's stomach dropped and rolled around in the deep chiasm.

"There is a slight chance that she may, in fact, not make it, but it's most likely that very soon, she would be bound to get better. It is only a mild case of Chronic Bronchitis…"

"Well than why has it taken her more a little more than a year to fight it off? It has to be something worse if it's lasted this long though! Really, my dear monsieur, it has to be something else! My maman will not be defeated so easily by a 'mild case' of… Brononti.. Chronos?" Meg flared, a red tinge coming to her cheeks.

"Chronic Bronchitis, mademoiselle." The doctor, it had to have been a doctor, looked mildly surprised and raised an attentive eye brow.

"Yes, yes… Ermm.. Chronic Bronchitis. Yes, yes."

"I can assure you Mademoiselle Giry that this will go away soon, for it can't possibly be anything else! I have researched this many times. Shortness of breath, constant violent coughing fits, chest pains, it all fits very well with the particular illness." Meg flinched at every symptom mentioned, as though she could feel them too.

"Yes… You _are _the doctor, I'll have to rely on what you say. Yes."

No, no, no… This didn't sound right to Erik. If it was what the good doctor said it was, well than it should have been gone by now, especially if it had been a year… **A year! She must have taken ill right after the incident… **Erik's mind fell in to deep thought as went over the possible diseases and treatments in his head.

"I will come tomorrow to continue the prescribed treatment. Until then, Mademoiselle Giry." He went into a mock bow and kissed her hand daintily as though she were no better than a common street whore.

"Au revoir." responded Meg disdainfully. The man strode out of the café, acting as thought nothing in the world could bother him, just like most Parisians. Erik stifled laughter as he watched Meg hold in what had to be about a thousand questions and comments on his behavior. Meg sighed, picked up her ruddy purse and walked out, Erik not far behind her.

"Good day Mademoiselle Giry." Spoke Erik right behind her. She jumped about a half a mile in the air and whirled around. Seeing who the voice belonged to, her mouth dropped in abject horror, her pallor whitening the once flushed cheeks.

"Come. I would like to inform you that I will be visiting your mother this upcoming Thursday to check on her health. You will tell her that, understood?" Meg starred numbly at the tall black figure, before mouthing.

"Opera… Ghost!"

"Yes, I was indeed the opera ghost, but I find it rather grating when others speak so informally of me." His tone was low and sarcastic. He would have enjoyed using his famed 'death' voice to scare the living daylights out of the frightened chorus girl, but his mission was to make her listen. And that she did.

"I might forget… Unless, you tell me why you killed Piangi!" She retorted defiantly, a mocking gleam in her eye.

"I disposed of him because they annoyed me… Just like you are doing right now, Madame." There was livid terror in her eyes as she nodded furiously but remained standing.

"Just one more thing… Monsieur Phantom. Why Christine?…" Anger flared in his eyes and a cold sweat ate at the back of his neck.

"If I were you I'd keep my nose out of my business, prying Pandora." He purred darkly, moving closer to grace her neck with a calloused finger.

"Oiy!" she squeaked backing up. A sly grin slid across his face.

"Remember my dear. Tell your mother! Or you might have the liberty of meeting Piangi and Bouquet on the other side." Her eyes widened and she nodded her head dully. Grinning to himself, he spun around, his cape flying behind him when,

"What is your name?" He turned the hooded(masked) side of his face to her and called,

"Erik." and was gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mademoiselle Daae, please understand that this will be a very intricate and difficult procedure. The poison is already spreading and we need to dissect the inflected flesh." Christine sucked in the air as if it would all run out if she did not breath it all it right than and there.

"Where exactly did the poison come from again?" Her head spun with the effort not to pass out. She bit her lip and nodded along with the doctor.

"A rare spider from India.(A/N: no this spider does not exist, I couldn't think of any good spiders that would cause the needed symptoms!) Your husband is the new Patron of the up coming Opera Spectacular, non?"

"Yes, but what does…"

"These arachnids latch themselves on to cargo cases and can live for weeks in trade. It's unusual for a spider to last this long, but it is possible. There's no need to worry though. He is in good hands." Christine continued to nod repeatedly, barely hearing the doctors words.

"The surgery will be simple. Remove the flesh that has come in contact with the venom and stitch him back up. Since it's recent, there will be only a minor area to remove. If you don't mind, I would like to perform it here."

"Yes, Monsieur Solange Martineau. We will supply you with whatever you need, just please, save him!" Her voice was soft and pleading and Solange couldn't help but feel pity for the shaken woman.

"I'll do what I can but I'll need to borrow your maids for the time being." She nodded once more and called in Maria.

"Maria, bring monsieur Solange whatever he needs. Stay with him the rest of the evening please. I will be downstairs." The doctor nodded curtly and turned to the pudgy maid besides him. Christine half sleep walked, half ran down the stairs and collapsed on to the enormous beige sofa. She fell asleep instantly the minute head touched the silk fabric.

THANK YOU REVIEWERS! RED ROSES WITH PURPLE RIBBONS FOR ALL OF YOU!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer: No, no, no… I do not own the phantom of the opera.. But that may not be for long, because I'm going to go and hypnotize Madame Kay into giving it to me! Mwhahahaha!**

Lilblondegiry- yeah, this was on my xanga. But since I did it quite along time ago, I thought that it would be a good idea to rewrite it and add a few different twists that sorta change the plot around a little bit. Not to mention, my grammar was atrocious on the old one. Thanks for the compliment btw!

_I can't breathe! I tried to scream, but my voice seemed to have escaped me, for now I'm sitting in alone in the pitch blackness, again. 'This is only a dream, it will all go away, oh please!' I whispered to myself, trying to calm myself in anyway possible. The silence was suffocating and seemed to crush me even harder into this unbearable darkness. _

_Invisible fingers wisped over my skin and I struggled to get away from them. It was no use trying to find the hand that belonged to these fingers, it was that dark. My stomach rolled in panic and in an unearthly delight and I tried desperately to keep my lunch in my stomach. The hands would not stop, would not pull away, they trailed icily down my spine till I could take it no longer. _

_Hurling myself at the place where the hands must have been, I made a head long collision with a brick wall. If anyone was to have heard me swear as I had just did, they would either have burst out laughing or scolded me firmly on my use of such colorful language. After all, a lady of my status should never, god forbid, act like a commoner from off the streets! _

_I bit back a laugh as I stood up shakily, trying to see what exactly I had rammed into. Whatever it was, it was felt like a rock with a smoothes ridges wrapped around it. Almost familiar now I think about it… but it couldn't be! _

_This dream always plays out the same, I struggle against the hands in complete darkness until I wake up. I drew my hands up against the wall, to find that the stone, was not stone at all but in fact, someone's chest. I traced the outline of a persons figure, a tall and slightly lanky person… Realizing what I had been stroking, I pulled back instantly, blushing insanely, chocking out incoherent apologies. _

_Stupid Fool! I kept on telling myself, but also rationalizing, how was I supposed to know weather or not it was a person, it could have been some window or something… I paused my frantic thoughts, thinking about the ghostly hands sliding all over my body just moments ago. _

_My face went beat red with anger and I instantly attacked the man, it must have been a man judging by the form and composure of his body, with an furious array of insults. In the midst of my womanly fury, a dim, gray light began to surface from the heavens above. I spun around immediately, forgetting my quarry and gazed at the landscape before me. _

_It was dull, barren, and tossed across the ground here and there was what looked to be multicolored skulls, each swaying in the not existent wind as if calling for someone to save them from a long awaited death, that they knew they could not escape. Hopeless pleas in a sea of abyss, seemed about right. Up close, I found the skulls were flowers, which put me at ease, if only slightly. Everything was so bare, so empty and dead, that it numbed me to the core. I could smell it too, that familiar scent that I had only smelled a few times before, and those were the times I wished I couldn't remember. It was there when I was with my father on his death bed, when he spoke to me of my Angel of Music. I closed my eyes and pushed away the memory, it still hurt to think of him. _

_I faced the man, a little less enthusiastic and felt my heart along with every other single organ in my body lurch to by throat. He stood there, my father, encased in stone. I felt my jaw drop and hot tears streak my face, but I didn't care. He was here! Before me, it had been almost an entire decade since I had seen his face and now… It shone warmly before me, like a beacon of light calling to the angels. Oh how I had missed him, everything about him and before I could stop myself, I through myself at the statue, hugging it's cold stone feet, the tears blurring my vision. _

"_Papa! Father!" I choked out, pulling myself closer to his feet. The memories hit me like bullets to the heart and I wept on, afraid to let go of my father who I've missed for so long. _

"_I've missed you Papa." Standing up, I starred him in the face. I put my hand to my mouth to cover the gasp of shock before I flung my arms around his shoulders. That face! My heart clenched in thought of it, the pain almost unbearable. I trembled and shook and my weeping finally ceased. _

_All those horrible years, alone without him, seemed to have been at it's gruesome climax just moments ago. I would never find recovery, but at last, the hurt and longing subsided, and I stood there, clutching him like the frightened child I was. What seemed like hours passed when finally I came to my senses and let him go, slowly and painstakingly. _

"_All those years without you, all those times when I cried myself to sleep, when I thought I could do no worse than die right than and there in the hands of sweet darkness, you were there. Silently guiding me to the path of my destiny. For that , I can never forget you, or stop loving you." I patted his cheek gingerly, wishing he could hear me, but somehow knowing, deep inside he could. _

"_The only question is, why does this path feel so.. So wrong? Like I am a stranger in my life. What am I doing wrong Papa? Whose path did I take now?" A lonely silence stretched across the barren landscape, refusing me passage to the answers that I know it hides from me. Sighing, I gave my father a sorrowful smile before fading into the darkness._

"Mademoiselle Daae! Please, hurry! He's calling for you, Monsieur De Changy, he is asking for you!" Christine jumped out the lounge chair immediately, lunging to her feet. "He's awake! He's calling, speaking! Oh thank the lord…" She breathed, running towards the sleep deprived maid.

"Mademoiselle, I hate to ask you of this right now, but may I have the rest of the day off? I'm dreadfully…" "Excused! Desole!" She flew past her, tripping over the hem of her skirts before rounding the corner. Maria laughed softly to herself, "Ah! Young love, it is truly a beautiful thing. And watching these two grow will be quite the entertainment!"

"Raoul!" Christine whispered ever so softly, walking into the dark bedroom as quietly as she could. The minute Christine's eye adjusted to the darkness, she spotted Raoul sitting up, looking quite bewildered at the sudden burst of light that illuminated the surroundings.

"Christine?" he rasped slightly, blinking at her furiously. A soft smile of relief flew over her tired features and she sighed heavily. "Yes, mon Dieu! I thought I had lost you for a moment there!" She walked in and plopped down besides him. "Lost me? What happened? The last thing I remember, is a beautiful bold blue colored fabric and than…" His eyes glazed over as the he thought of that perfect fabric, waiting down stairs for him. She put her hand over her mouth and stifled a laugh at his oddly normal behavior.

"Well I see you're back to normal, if only partially. How are you feeling?" He looked at her confusedly, scratching his matted blonde hair before flopping back against the pillows. He closed his weary eyes and leaned his head up to the ceiling as if seeking guidance. "The side of my leg is killing me and feels as though someone just shot me there and I have a bit of a head cold." Christine nodded, relieved. These were the symptoms the doctor told her to expect when he woke up. Everything was running smoothly. Everything except for… _Oiy vey.. Worry about that later. _She smiled wearily, soft lines grazing the her soft façade.

"The pain should wear off soon, the doctor had to perform an.."

"The who! What in God's name happened Christine? Why do you not tell me? What doctor? When did this all happen? Why did whatever this was happen? Where did the fabric go?" Christine let the endless questions come, thinking how much he resembled a child just than. His face was a glowing red from the fever and the rampage of questions. Sighing slightly, Christine dove straight in to the story, telling him everything from the illness, to the piece of blue material, which, to his relief, waited patiently for him down stairs.

"Interesting… Very interesting that I might come across an arachnid of such a rare kind." He said, his thoughts wondering off and his hands massaging the flesh absently around his wounded leg. "Very interesting indeed." She added absent mindedly, twirling a finger through her one of her silky brown curls.

"My dear, will you do me a favor and open the curtains? I can hardly make out your features in this light." Christine nodded and walked to the windows, pulling open the multicolored tapestries. Dark grey clouds hovered over head, blocking out any trace of sunlight for miles and miles. "Christine, what day is it today?"

"Monday, why?" she asked curiously. "Just wondering… Actually, I was thinking we move the wedding to a closer date, say 2 weeks from now?" Christine starred at him blankly, not fully understanding. "Why?" he sighed and motioned for her to sit next to him on the bed.

"Well mon cheire, I just wanted us to be wed faster! Isn't that what you want too?"

"Of course! I just thought you would want to get all of your strength back before that. Besides, we still have so much to do!" He sighed dejectedly and looked out the window. "Well actually, I wanted to be wed faster so we can move into the new house in Austria."

"Wh-WHAT!" stammered Christine, the color draining from her face. "Well, if we are to start a new life, I propose we also get a new home too! It all makes perfect sense, I've picked out a nice mansion in the city! It will be lovely Christine, absolutely…" but she couldn't here him any more. All she heard was the voice of protest in the back of her head screaming: Absolutely NOT!

"No." she told him plainly getting up from her side of the bed. He watched, apparently stunned at her plainness. "Wh-what?"

"No Raoul, you heard me. We cannot just pick up and leave Paris! I mean, our lives are here! My job at the Opera House, our friends," She looked him into the eye seriously, contemplating how to convince him that she had made roots here that could not be uplifted. "Cheri, it is too late for second thoughts! I have already put our house on the market." He sighed at her venomous outrage.

"Christine, wouldn't you want to raise our children some where away from Paris, so as not to be too caught up in the scandals and rumors? And we'd be close to society I could easily do business with other companies. And, about your job." He raised an eyebrow at her mixed expression. At this point, Christine wasn't sure if she wanted to hit upside the head and ridicule him for his ignorant behavior or choke him. Both sounded equally appeasing.

"You'll have to quit it. What type of respected Vicomtess would go and make a fool of herself by parading around a stage in some outrageous outfit like a circus monkey? Not you, Lotte! Well… Not anymore that is. I will make a noble woman out of you yet! Luckily for me, there isn't much left to do, seeing as you are one of God's finest creations."

That left her completely dumbstruck and bursting with a murderous rage. _To kill or not to kill, THAT is the question! _"Is that what you think of my dreams Raoul? That above all else, I desire to be carnival freak? A simple minded school girl who would do anything for attention! I can't believe you, of all people, would think that! Performing is an art in which talent cannot be easily gained, it must be learned. And it's not just to please you rich imbeciles either! Every roll I play lets me see through the eyes of another, their opinions, their way of life. It helps me to see the world in different angles, not just from one perspective. You should try it sometime Raoul, it would do you wonders." She spat at him, her voice dripping sarcasm with her final statements.

A bright red tinge lit up his cheeks, making him look twice as ill, but he remained calm, as though waiting out the angry tirade of an over excited child. "I do agree on the idea of raising the children away from Paris, but wouldn't you much rather have them grow on the country side? Where they have more room to explore and be children?" She heaved an immense sigh, frustration washing over her in thick rolling waves. "I was not trying to insult your… dreams, but make a point that Vicomtesses are not actresses."

_Ha! You have no idea how many noble woman… Make that all Parisians actually… Can go out with the fakest of smiles and attitudes and fool even the cleverest of men. _There was a short silence before either of them spoke. "I knew, a part of me just did not want to except that fact." A little rain cloud perched over her head, a black and thick swirling mass that grinned maliciously at her. Drops of acid rain fell from it's belly, slowly corroding the edges of her fragile heart.

"I'm sorry Lotte, that's just how it has to be." He pulled her slumped form to his side, kissing her head softly, bringing her absolutely no protection from the agonizing drops. "Please Raoul, next time, consult me before going through something this important." There was really nothing she could do except face the harsh facts. All her hopes seemed to fade into the blackness or her heart.

Although still furious at him, Christine acted normally, as if nothing had happened. The regular attire for the average Parisian. Only when she had left Raoul and ran to the safety of the shadowy forest clearing, did she release her true feelings.

She cursed the towering trees, Raoul, Paris, and herself until she felt her knees give out and hit the damp ground beneath her. _This is all happening too fast! I can't just pick up and leave my home, where all of my memories exist. Leave my few friends… Erik… _She wrapped her arms around her trembling body and bit her lip in sorrow.

No matter how badly she tried, she could never forget the man who haunted her dreams. Although she had abandoned him, left him to rot in his lair, she couldn't discard the feeling that needed him to be around for there to be peace.

_NO! You mustn't remember him, never, you can't! He can't be in your life anymore. _She stood from her hunched position and leaned against a particularly knarred tree. A deep longing erupted from inside the exiled area of her soul, crossing the border into her forbidden heart. The longing attacked her heart, caressing it softly and feeding it memories of Erik.

When all hope was lost, on the brink of insanity, her pride jumped in, along with good decision, and saved the day. Taking on the buried longing with incredible force. _I do NOT need Erik to make me feel protected and happy! That's why I love Raoul, because he can make me feel all these things without even trying. _

Her other side responded, equally enthused. _Yes, I do! I've depended on him for the past 10 years, without him, I don't think I would have survived. I'd still be abjectly wishing for my Father to come back to life. Not to mention, I've never really felt any of these things with Raoul. Except for protection. _

The other side shot back triumphantly, _More than protection, he has tied himself to you and you cannot doubt that. _

The side of longing countered, _He does has ties over me, I cannot deny, but nothing like the ones Erik holds. Raoul is more like a brother, the awakening. We are no longer the love struck children, begging stories from neighbors or making up our own imaginary worlds that frightened us so badly that we shook in each others arms. No, we are now two separate adults with nothing but close bonds, mistaken for love. With Erik, time itself stops. And know I that. _With that, both sides were silent until,

_It is too late. He is over you now and you do love Raoul, and not like the supposed brother. You loved Erik, once, but the age of the Phantom has ended. Now we shall bring about the age of Raoul! Too long has my heart lead me astray. For too long has my heart spun silly fantasies that only can only lead to disaster and confusion! Never shall I listen to my heart again for it is deceitfully, and an accident waiting to happen. I shall never follow it in to the dark, seeing at it has finally made the full transformation into the black hole. _

The desires that had unearthed themselves retreated back to the horrid caverns of her soul."I will marry Raoul. I have already pledged it. He loves me, I love him. Everything is exactly as it should be. Everything is perfect." She stood to her feet, brushing dirt of her crinkled dress and began the slow trek back to the De Changy manor. All the while thinking,

_If everything is all simplicity and joy, than why do I fell like dying? _

A/N-i'm sorry that this one is so short my dears, i will get the next chapter out before christmas.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: If I close my eyes and click my heals a coupl'a times, I'll own the Phantom of the opera! "I wish I could own Poto, I wish I could own Poto, I wish I could own Poto.."(click, click, click…)_

_Hours later…_

_Damn. I still don't own the Phantom of the Opera.(massages raw heals)_

**Chapter 11**

Five days later…

_I faced him again, waiting for some sort of sign, anything. Anything would do, just speak! I sighed sadly, sitting at the base of my father's statue. Ever since my first dream came to me, I've been having the same one over and over again. Always the same too. I fall out of the darkness into the field of deaths roses, or so I've named it and have come to my Father's marble statue. _

_Though it still hurt to look in to his lifeless eyes for long periods of time, I can still face him. Long enough to talk to him and fully explain my current situation. It's comforting, though I know he can't hear me. There's really no one else left in my world to help me through it. _

_I plucked a violet colored skull from the ground and spun it between my fingers. I placed this one behind my ear, plucking a bright white one from the earth. My stomach weaved in and out of a never ending maze as I gazed deeper into the simple flower… that seemed so familiar. _

_Than it hit me. _

_Erik. _

_I was an idiot not to notice it before, he always seemed to impress upon my dreams, even in the smallest of ways. He was always there. "I don't think I'll ever forget him, Papa." I told him sorrowfully. '_And something says I don't want to either.' _I told myself secretly. _

_I hate to admit it, but he became a part of me in my years at the opera house. Only but a pleasant memory now.. My heart skipped a beat with his memory and I shivered, from the cold stone or my Angel, I dare not ponder to far into the matter for fear of the undesired answer. _

"_Oh if only you could speak to me! If only you could help me with this empty void that I can't seem to fill. Perhaps maybe you could understand." I felt the tug of reality pull me back from my little dream world and with a mournful smile, I vanished._

Christine lifted her head from her perch next to a snoring Raoul. _How I managed to fall asleep is beyond me.. _She thought as his loud droning snores echoed throughout the room. She put a cool hand to his head to test his temperature, only to rip it away frightened. He wasn't burning with rapid fever, of chilled to the touch, no. He tossed this way and that, murmuring things that only he could hear, a cold sweat drizzling down his brow.

"Shhh, mon cheire! I am here." She placed a soothing hand on his arm, trying to wake him from his fit full sleep to no avail. Frowning, she started to sing. At the sound of her voice, his movements slowed and he began to settle, though he still quivered slightly.

"Meg, mon amour…" His words slapped her in the face harshly, sending a dull ache throughout her body. The lullaby stopped, but she kept her hand on his arm, feather light, until he drifted off again into a peaceful slumber. Tears grew behind her icy eyes as she turned her back on him. _I need someone to talk too. I don't care anymore, I need help! _

She slipped into a deep violet dress, one Raoul especially hated for it took away from her noble status by it's regularity. After quickly tying up her rebellious hair, Christine made her way to the stabled, remembering something that sent a smile to her face. _I'm not completely alone in this world, how could I be so ignorant. _It had been quite a while since she had visited Madame Giry and today she was supposed to visit her. She ran in to the living room, spotting the large old grandfather clock pushed up into the corner of the room.

11:01.

She gasped and zoomed back out to the stables. She would be late if she didn't hurry! She jumped on an incredulous Clover and kicked off towards her destination. The sun blazed high up in the skies, raining down warmth upon the city of Paris. It was about 20 minutes later, that she came to the lake which surrounded the secluded neighborhood in which Madame Giry resided.

Little waves of gratitude washed over her as she secretly thanked her old friend who was as dear to her as a mother. Minutes later, she arrived at the antique grey house. She lead Clover to the stables, running slightly and handed him over to one of the waiting stable boys. Christine fought to keep a grin off her face as she greeted the butler. "Ah Mademoiselle Daae! What a pleasure it is to see you again! We've missed you here, us servants! The Madame always seems to be kinder… well less snappy when you or the younger Madame is here."

Guilt bit at her mind as she thought of Meg. _I'll have to talk to her sooner or later… I'll ask Madame if she knows where I could find her. _"Jonathan! It's been a while, hasn't it? Oh well, it's lovely to see you again. How've you been?" He took her cloak merrily, a slight bounce in his step, which wasn't unusual for the cheerful butler.

He was a tall and lanky man with messy blonde hair that he kept in a tight knot at the back of his head. Nothing could dampen his spirits, which is one of the reasons the Madame had hired him. _Madame Giry always had an eye for excellence. _She thought casually, brushing an escaped lock out of her face.

"Oh very well, my dear lady! Quite fine indeed! The Madame's new doctor arrived just a little while ago, but I don't think she'd mind if you were there while he was, you're so close anyways. You can help her err… keep from losing patience with him again. Which seems to be doing a little more often than the old one, you see." Christine shot him a questioning look before he continued.

"Oh yes! I forgot you haven't been here for all the drama! Well, the old doctor, Monsieur Martineau, had been diagnosing her wrong this whole entire time! She did not have Chronic Bronchitis like he had said, no, no, no! Far off!" He paused guiding her to an oak staircase, worry entering his voice, "You might want to sit down for this," he directed an perplex Christine to an old arm chair.

Panic rose up in her heart, bubbling away inside her stomach. "Well, see, I'm sorry to say, but the Madame has a minor case of tuberculosis. Just a small one mind you, very petite." Christine turned pale and not just pale, she turned death white. A layer of ice caught her in a tight grasp and she struggled to speak.

"Oh dear lord, are you…"

"Positive, the new doctor confirmed it. I'm so sorry…" She breathed in and stood up abruptly.

"Please, tell me, how is she?" Jonathan straightened, a serene look on his young face. "She is better than she's been in months, mademoiselle!"

"No! Really?" Her spirits rose immediately and the frozen hold on her heart released her. "Well, if she's had enough energy to boss us around and teach us our jobs, while taking care of the little Giry, we think that's a good sign." Christine sighed happily, though not fully at ease.

"Oh yes, another bit of bad news, the Younger Giry will not be around this week. She has taken to London and will not be back for a few days at the most." Christine nodded appreciatively. This made things easier to talk to Madame Giry.

"So who is this new medical practitioner who the Madame finds good enough to heal her. Especially, when the doctor proposes an entirely new theory! She mustn't have gone along with it too willingly in the first place?" asked Christine as Jonathan led her the grand staircase. He chuckled slightly, laughter glimmering in his eyes.

"Actually, the minute he proposed this theory she accepted it! Not an if, and, or but about it. The doctor in question is quite a strange fellow, keeps to himself, not one you'd like to get to know. You'll see in a minute why he is considered so eccentric by us. The mistress doesn't seem to notice it though." Christine frowned slightly as the rounded a bend and stopped in front of the door.

_This seems too familiar.. But no.. it couldn't be… not Him.. _She fiddled with her sleeve nervously, biting her lip. _Now he wouldn't be here now. It's daylight out, he sticks to the shadows. _She rolled her eyes at her stupidity, why would he be here anyways?

Her heart fell a little, though she could not tell why. Jonathan opened the door with an air of elegance and announcing her arrival. She walked in behind him, smiling cheerfully. Her smile froze in place, her heart seemed to have stopped beating and the air around her sucked the breath out of her lungs in a greedy haste.

Madame Giry lie in bed, thick lines embedded in her strong cheeks, a smile playing over her thin lips, eyes full of command. Sitting besides her in a large oak chair, sat a rather tall man, dressed from head to toe in jet black. Upon his pale face hung a distinguishing mask.

_It's him! _The thought exploded in her mind, his name clouding her vision. "Erik," she breathed, a pink tinge spreading across her face. Erik, on the other hand was totally oblivious to her presence, too warped in the mention of her name to look around. **Oh god in heaven, I can't believe what I just heard! It can't be her, not my Christine, why would she be here **_**now? **_

His heart did an assortment of strange acrobatic tricks before he turned his head slowly to face the woman in the door way. There she was. Standing there in all her elegance, her face flushed from, either livid terror or rash excitement, he couldn't tell, but when his deep green ones met her chocolate brown ones, he knew that her mere living imaged burned him to his very soul. The minute she breathed his name, did he step out of his little fantasy world to realize what was happening.

She left him, she did not love him. Most likely, the little vixen was already married to the foppish child. His fists tightened in sheer anger, though he wore a casual frown on his face.

"Er.. Madame Giry.. It's… lovely to see you again." She stammered, trying desperately to not a bigger fool out of herself. She straightened, eyes following Erik's every movement. She quickly remembered that she was supposed to be breathing, right when she thought she would pass out. Questions exploded in their minds, nonstop.

_Can he hear my heart? It's loud enough to be heard throughout the house. _

**Did she miss me? No, probably not.. She has forgotten me as easily as one forgets an acquaintance in the streets. **

_I can't help it any longer! I've missed him so, how could I have gone for so long without him. But… He probably hates me now.. How could he not? I broke his heart so many times, if only he would let me receive penance for my sins by just… letting me go. _

'**Under loves heavy burden, do I sink'(**Romeo and Juliet for all those who don't know) **Will she never leave my ravished heart alone? When will she stop haunting me and let me live? Christine… **

"I see you have company, I will come back another.." Erik snapped back to focus on the Christine's words. His eyes never left her lips as she spoke.

"Nonsense child! Erik is a changed man and will be on his best behavior, as will you." Christine's face was grave, a spitting image of Erik's own.

"There are no harsh feelings betwixt you two any more, both have confided in me that amount of information." Christine's blush deepened and she gave a feeble smile, accepting the invitation. Erik on the other hand, stood, his white mask glinting in the sun light which poured through the open windows.

"Alas, Antoinette, I must take my leave. I have things I must be doing in order to…"

"Don't be rude Erik. I will not tolerate this behavior in my household. Sit." Her sharp blue eyes, bit into his, challenging him to go against her words. He flexed his jaw muscles in annoyance.

"Really, Madame, I must go and pick up a few things to make your prescription. Goodbye. Christine." He said icily, bowing his head slightly in Christine's direction.

"Erik I.."

"Erik, I must insist that you stay here. Unless you seem to have a problem with Mademoiselle Daae." Her finger twitched restlessly. If only she could reach out and…. No! Her mind screamed at her, do not fall for him again, you can't!

_Oh if only I could go back in time and convince myself not to. _The pressure was unbearable for him, the urge to run over and kiss her was too much for him.

**Must fight it! **He sighed, "I have no problems with the mademoiselle, so I'll stay, but only for a short while." Antoinette nodded, her lips pursed tightly together what they could only guess was satisfaction.

A/N: Oh yes, big chapter up next, roses for my reviewers! They're hand wrapped by Erik so I hope you all like them. Merry X-mas btw.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the _Phantom of the Opera_… happy now? You've reduced me to tears!**

Erik took his seat next to Madame Giry, eyeing the quilt at the end of her bed like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Christine stifled a laugh and tried to stop her eyes from straying to his porcelain mask. Thoughts kept on rushing through her head, some pleading with her to go and profess, she was not sure what, but something similar to what she felt before. Another part was telling her to run from him as fast as she could, to go any where else. Any place but where he was. The turmoil inside made her almost completely unaware of the conversation unraveling before her.

"Your husband, sorry -- fiancé -- how is he?" Madame Giry said in her thick French accent. She swayed slightly in her position before resting her head on the pillows behind her. Doing her best to act natural, Christine leaned back in her chair, the Parisian smile crossing her features. Casting a quick gaze to Erik, she continued casually.

"Raoul, this last week has been absolutely terrible for him! Not to long ago, he was bit by an poisonous spider and became deathly ill. We were all scared out of our wits!"

Was it just her, or was Erik grinning? Glancing over again, she saw a glint of vengeful laughter in his eyes. His mouth remained a thin line, but she could easily see the muscles in his jaw working hard to prevent him from just outright grinning. Little flashes of anger lit her own eyes as she straightened in her chair.

"Luckily, I was able get a doctor to operate on him before the wound became even more infected." She said slowly, watching carefully for Erik's reaction.

"Oh Lord! Goodness child, how is he now?" Madame Giry asked, her stern voice full of worry. Erik did not stir; he barely even blinked as she glanced again. Only in his deep green eyes did she find her answer: he was quite disappointed. She sighed inwardly, before brushing a renegade curl away from her suddenly hot cheek.

"He is very well now, Madame. In a few days his will have almost completely healed! He heals fast, so he should be as good as new the day we wed." There it was! In his eyes, she saw the flicker of sorrow that sent the burst of emotion throughout her body.

_No! _But it was too late, the unwanted feeling seeped into the very tips of her fingers, the toxin mixing with hot blood that pulsed madly through her veins. She saw her angel in a whole different view, not from the old lover and friend, but something more….

"Well, that's lovely, my dear. Wouldn't want a little spider affecting your happiness." Erik's fingers balled up in to trembling fists. How he wished he could run from the vixens trap! To flee this tomb in which he thought he could burry her memory, back to the drug induced sleep he'd wished would take him already. Whatever hell had in store for him, he was ready to face it. As long as his angel's presence left him, he would be at peace. Every time his eyes grazed her flawless features, he would swoon with the urge to reach over and burry his head into her thick chocolate locks.

**Control, Control, Control**. He remained stone and his hands relaxed.

_But Mlle. Giry, what if the spider is what's bearing my happiness? _

"Y-yes… that would be terrible." she said in something louder than a whisper. Regret bit at her gut, _take back my words, I don't think that's what I truly wanted… needed to say! _Remorse slid over Erik's grim face. A flicker of pride sparked in his malevolent eyes, a cold smirk drawn on his lips.

**I'm not prey for this Pandora's box, and I will emit no key to open the lid to my eternity of loathing in self pity. Only in her eyes, do I cast myself lower than the most scathing creature alive… Christine, Christine, Christine. **(he shivered slightly) **Your era in my life will never end, that I am sure, but the strings of my heart you will puppeteer no longer. That I can promise myself. **

"Oh yes, Mum. Will you be able to make it to the…erm…"

"Wedding?" asked Erik, his face bitter stone. Christine nodded, her fingers trembling under the safety of her skirts. Mme. Giry eyed both the obviously uncomfortable guests warily before closing her eyes on both of them. Christine brightened up immediately at this, her palms had started to sweat with eagerness and she had to get out of there.

"Mme.! You look terribly tired, I shall leave you to rest. Au rev…"

"Non! Don't go running off now, girl. I'm not like one of the little dancers I teach, whining and bawling at the slightest pain. Veinir maintenant. All I have is Erik to talk to otherwise and all he does is argue about things. And wins the argument for that matter."

The smirk morphed into a grin, "Complaining about me again Mme.? And, well, we do not _always _fight. We do have passive chats,"

"That consist of 'Bonjour' and 'Comment allez-vous?'" Christine grinned, the tension in the air fading. She sat back down and listened to the two's conversation, adding in here and there, always making a smile come to one or the others face. Every time Erik did smile, it sent little title waves of joy over her. With those waves, came the drops of poison. Leading her slowly to a dreadful conclusion, in which, she had yet to learn.

"No, no, no. You've got it all wrong. Persia is not a place for a delicate lady like yourself, Mlle. Although as flamboyant luxurious it may seem, Persia is a dangerous place with men trying to entice young women like yourself into unsightly traps around every corner." Erik said, in a matter of fact tone. Christine gave Erik a quizzical look, her eye brow rising slightly in interest.

"And, how, may I ask, do you come across this information. You've never mentioned a visit to Persia when I knew you." A steady drip of perspiration ran slick under the masked side of his face. Never had he brought up those years in Persia, too anyone other than Nadir, who moved back to his home land after hearing of the death of the Shah, a fierce ruler who would have done anything to see Erik's head served to him on a sliver platter. Dare he share it with these two and expose himself more than was necessary? To bring him closer to Mlle. Daae and possibly ruin the fragile friendly relationship they had began to build upon was a chance he wasn't willing to take.

"I had visited there once, as a hired architect to help build the late Shah's… private domain." He didn't mention that it's true use was to fulfill the twisted mind of the Shah, in torturing his victims in sick and gory ways, even Erik shuddered to think of.

"Erik? Are you all right?" Mme. Asked, placing a comforting hand on his sleeve. Christine watched his face go slightly pale and his hand quiver under Mme,'s. Her heart flew out to him though she knew she couldn't try to ease his pain, without falling into the path of her silly heart. Erik nodded, green orbs focusing on the end of the quilted bed.

"You would not wish to travel to Persia, it's much too humid there... I would suggest Venice, it is like no other experience, it's lovely."

_This was part of the past he hates so dearly. Pauvre Erik. If only I could reach out and help, without loosing control. _He turned his head wearily and met her wide sympathetic eyes.

**You alone could make my song take flight… **He thought wistfully, butterflies eating his stomach inside out.

"Very well than, I know you've been dying for me to ask you this Erik," Erik's thoughts came back to earth and a malicious grin toyed with the edges of his lips. "How are your opera's coming along? You told me just the other day about…"

_Oh no. _A bomb dropped in Christine's chest, _I have to get out of here.. _"If you'll excuse me, I need to check on Clover." Mme. Giry whisked her hand to the door and continued to ramble on about his current master piece. Erik's eye brows knit together as he watched Christine fly from the room.

"What was…"

"It's that time of the month Erik." The white mask on his face did no good to cover up the ruby hue of his hot cheeks, only causing it a reflective glow.

"Well, what is this one about? Something morbid that all of society would reject passionately for it's truths and beauty?"

He laughed, "Is that what you think of all my operas?"

"No, no… Yes, it's fair hard not to. Except for a few, they all fit the description." His green eyes rolled mockingly,

"I can't argue with that…"

"Exactly, now go on." She snapped, neatening the blankets so they lie flat around her sides.

"If you would have let me finish…"

"Come now Erik, we haven't all day." Musical fingers wove in and out of the sleeve cuff, fingering the silver button anxiously.

"Shouldn't we wait for…"

"Erik, knowing Christine, it will be a _long _time before Christine comes back," The ruby was fading into a darker crimson now, his face glowing with edgy discomfort. There are some things he'd rather not know about Christine and this was an example of one of them.

"Oh.. Yes. Ok, it's a dark romance about a young woman, so lost in her life that she resorts to suicide only to be saved by someone she never thought she'd ever meet…" A crystalline drop rolled off her porcelain doll cheek. She knew the story like the back of her hand, it was her own…and it still hurt to hear it. While she and Erik were together, she had come across a few sheets of music, describing their previous engagements.

Her body quivered outside the door, her breath coming to quickly. She felt faint, but fought it off by leaning up against the wall, biting her lip fiercely. A tender finger traced the scars on her wrists. They remained hidden, heavily coated in pale powders. Although, she could still see each rip into her delicate flesh, each drip of rose red blood. Another tear descended from mocha eyes, splashing down on the shaking fists.

_How can I forget you when you're etched into my flesh? How can I forget your love, when I still yearn for yours? _She glared viciously at her palms, hot tears streaking her flawless façade. One little scratch wouldn't harm anyone. Or a few for that matter. Raoul wouldn't see them, he's too blind to issues like these and, though she hated to do it, she'd lie to get away with it. 'It was the rose bushes fault, I fell.' Her finger nails dug into the skin under her palm as if beneath the thin layer of skin, lay gold. Tiny droplets of blood blossomed on her wrists through jagged slits. _I can't do this… but it's not suicide… just freedom. _

"Shh… Mon petite." Muscled arms enfolded around her, catching her in a mid-way fall. "It's ok, I'm here, you're safe." She gasped, looking up in to the sad eyes of Erik. Before he could say another word, she threw her arms around him, embracing him tightly. He looked down on her curly head, trembling slightly, put his arms around her a little tighter.

"Erik, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please…" Her tears stopped and she froze. "No!" She pushed away fiercely, running to the stairs and bounding down them, two at a time like a mad woman. He stood there dumbstruck, unsure of what to do.

"Erik, mon dieu! What did you do!" She was there in his arms, the living image of Christine, nestled in his arms. She wasn't about to escape from him so easily! He bounded down the stairs, in hot pursuit of Christine, still trying aimlessly to catch his breath. Tears tickled the corners of her cheeks, her pallor undecided on whether or not to be colored misty white or crimson red.

"Mlle.?" Jonathan questioned, fear in his eyes. She pushed past the shaking servant and exploded out in to the court yard. "Mr. Lesaurus! What in…" Jonathan shut up again as the man was helplessly thrown aside like a rag doll.

"Christine! Wait! Please, speak to me!" She bit her tongue, suppressing a sob. Looking around, she finally spotted Clover, feasting upon a little patch of grass.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She whispered helplessly to no one in particularly, her hands groping at Clover's saddle. Erik never imagined she could run so fast, even in his nightmares, when he saw her run from him in fear, he always seemed to catch up to her.

"Christine, please! Stop this and…" He reached the stable doors and burst backwards as Christine charged out on Clover's back.

In the wake of determination, Erik took a chance and lunged in front of the rampaging mare.

"No!" The frantic horse reeled, it's master nearly flying from her back. His hands shot out and caught the frightened animal's reigns, cooing gently at the horse until she calmed. Christine watched, spell bound to his shifting hands, trembling. Her breath came fast when at last she whispered, "No."

Another tear bit at the corner of her eye. The lid fluttered shut, along with it's companion.

"Christine, mon petite, look at me." He reached out a large hand to whisper across the cheek of his beloved.

"Oh no…" She pulled her face away from his touch that burned, though his fingers were ice. "Don't crucify me to a dream that could never exist Erik. I'm engaged! I do not love you any more." She said, barely audible in the sudden deafening silence. Two chocolate eyes flickered open and fixated their glossy gaze on the mare's black mane. He closed his eyes, his vision blurred by uncontrollable tears.

**Fight it, **he told himself plaintively. **She can't be able to bring you down with a few metaphorical words! But… she can.**

"A dream? Is that all I will ever be to you? A dream? All this time, I've been chasing a dream, just a beautiful dream that haunts and has hurt for what seems like a life time. Is that it, Christine?" His fists shook with unfathomable rage spun delicately into a wheel of misery.

"Not every tale ends happily, Erik, just… let me pass!"

" You cannot brush this matter of so easily! This jovial behavior cannot persist in…"

"Just stop it! You've done enough damage in this part of my life! And I'm sorry I've had the same effect on you, but the best thing to do now is just… move on." They both froze, those fateful words hanging in mid-air like a threatening storm cloud. The hands controlling Clover's reigns fell away, limp to his sides. His eyes went blank as he stumbled backwards.

"You've no idea how this dream keeps on twisting into a nightmare." She murmured under her breath, her eyes raining tears. She gave Clover a swift kick in the side, before turning around to see the form of the phantom drift into nothing. "How when this nightmare ends, I wish it was you there in the end." She focused her eyes on the road ahead before breathing, "I love you."

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Meanwhile…

"Don't look at me like that Raoul, you know why I am here." Barked the small hooded figure at the De Changy door.

His heart raced with fear as he whispered in one of the servant's ears, "Do not let her come in, she may not, under any circumstances, come in to this house!" Meg stood in the front door, looking over a babbling servants head and at the tall Raoul.

"Why, monsieur? Isn't she the mademoiselle's friend?"

"Yes, but…"

"Raoul De Changy!" She bulldozed the whimpering maid and trudged over to Raoul, face bright red and sour. "How dare you ignore me monsieur! After all those nights pleading…"

"Shh! Hush, silent, come in here! Don't let the servants find out!" He clamped a hand over her mouth and half dragged her in to a dimly lit study. Maria chuckled from her dish washing stance, a silver plate in her hand. "Oh Monsieur, you have no idea…"

"Raoul, why wouldn't you answer my letters? I thought you were dying or something less dangerous. What happened?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest moodily. Raoul bit his lip, he looked at her soft purple dress, cut off at the shoulders. She shivered and Raoul ran to start a fire. Pink lips quivered above a stubborn chin.

"Meg, I told you this before, we can't be together and…"

"That doesn't mean we can't be friends like before!"

"Meg, we _weren't _friends before. We never really were." The pink lips quivered more violently.

"Raoul, why can't you…"

"Are you asking to cheat on my fiancé…again!" He sighed sadly. He still loved her, just not as much as Christine. How he wished than he could move to Persia and marry them both! Give up Catholicism for love? Naw, the almighty wouldn't like that. He thought dubiously, motioning for her to take a seat.

"Well… I mean…" She fidgeted with the ends of her shawl. "Can you blame me?" She gave a weak smile before gracefully falling into the cushiony chair.

"No… I guess I can't. No one can choose… these things just happen." He sat behind his desk, starring critically at her left earlobe.

"I know," She sighed defeated. Raoul woke up out of his daze, shocked.

"Wh-what!" Never in all the time had he known her had she ever gave in so simply.

"You heard me. I was a fool for trying to come here and persuade you in to coming back to me. I just wish love wasn't so damned… hard!" He nodded, worried about her easy defeat. A little tear welled up in her eye, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't of come here, Christine wouldn't like it. And Maman always told me I was too persistent, it's just, well you know. I love you and everything and I don't want to hurt Christine again. We've been friends for soo long! I just wish she wouldn't have found out about you know, us! Either that or I have been your childhood sweetheart. We would have still been together and, and… things would be good again." She found his eyes, her honey ones boring in to his sky blues. He swallowed, clearing the lump in his throat.

"Meg I can't… we can't. We can't hurt her again."

"I know." Tiny fingers rubbed chilled arms, sadness penetrating her usual chipper nature. A tiny tear trickled down her cheek, her hand flying up instantly to meet the approaching invader.

"Here," Raoul was by her side in an instant, a blue handkerchief in his hand. "Don't cry my dear. This feelings.. You have will fade." He caught himself, she cringed tighter into a little ball.

"Thank you.. I know…but what if…"

"They will cheire. I promise." She dabbed at her eyes, like her Maman showed her, not like a whore after she did her job, she remembered and handed the sopping fabric back to him.

"Thank you." She jumped to her feet, bouncing on the balls of her shoes. "Raoul, I must be leaving now so…" She raised her hand, poised to slap him and pat his cheek. 'I love you Meg', 'I love you too.' Was the conversation he wished to have, but settled for their pert goodbyes. Something told him, that this situation, wasn't about to get any easier.

"This couple just keeps on getting interesting and interesting…" Shot Maria to another, younger maid, Aliana. She giggled nodding along with Maria.

"If I know De Changy, something _very _unexpected will happen. Praise God, it will be for the better."

A/N: ok, I added a lyric from HIM into this, 'cause it fit so exceptionally well. I decided to give you R/M fans something to go on… there will be more of them in the story too.


	13. Chapter 13

-Chapter 13

Disclaimer: For information here, please see previous chapter.

_"It gets rather boring you know," I sighed indignantly, plucking a skull flower off the grey ground. "Having the exact same dream over and over for a two weeks straight since, well you know… when I saw him last…" A little tingling sensation ran down my spines, something I started to grow accustomed to. I can't say his name though, the results are truly disastrous. I bit my lip, it still hurt to think about that day… it's still so fresh in my mind, though it was weeks ago! _

"_My stubborn heart won't let go of him, Papa. It just won't move on! It seems content just creating images of him and drinking those for sustenance." This wasn't supposed to happen. If Erik would have just never entered my life would be… completely and horribly useless and dull. I starred gloomily at the skull flower, biting my lip until I drew blood. If I kept my concentration I could just faintly see the white mask that Erik adorned so menacingly… _

"_God curse it!" I yelled, ripping the flower up in to tiny pieces. How hard is it to forget! I do it all the time, with the simplest of things. "I wish we could just forget the bad times and remember the necessary things… like events, him…" But he's not a bad memory, I reminded myself mockingly. He's the thing you love so dearly. It hurt to think about this matter, but what could I do? I can't ignore these… feelings… but I can't give in to them either. _

"_Damn them both!" I shouted, loosing my nerve. I never swore in front of my father till just now and truth be told, I didn't care. "Enough with the silences! You are the only person I can trust right now! I just need you to help me!" I jumped to my feet, my face wet with tears. I wanted to burn these fields of endless death and bring my father back to life just to collapse into some one's arms I could trust. "I just need a friend in this world full of backstabbing bastards." I crumpled, unable to bear it any longer. I bundled closer to his statue, biting my lip to cease the tears. I could taste the bitter sweet satisfaction of the blood swirling around in my mouth, the tears gradually slowing. _

"_Papa, please answer me…" Even one word would brighten up this nightmare. "Of all the dreams to leave me to ponder about, I can't believe you'd leave me with your corpse." _

_Just one word… than everything would seem right somehow. Except that, this scene, although repeated once before, was familiar, I'm sure. I know I've been seen this before, if only my memory would save me! I traced the lines of his feet, the cold from the stone burning my hand. _

_Than it hit me._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The keys of the organ rang with uncontrollable violence that shook the very foundation of the opera. Little specks of blood decorated the sheet music, a sacrifice of pain for release.

Sweat glistened on the edges of the mask, occasionally dripping to collide into the crimson liquid that soaked the helpless keys. The notes softened in their dark harmony to tell the bitter sweet tragedy that fell feebly to burden the already weighted shoulders of Erik.

Numb fingers beat the instrument until their owner fell to the floor to stare coldly at the ceiling. "I've had enough of your little games. It's not amusing anyone and you are hurting Christi…_her_. One of your own in the process!" He murmured, beautiful voice stained with anguish.

His fingers throbbed, a vein pulsed underneath the sweaty mask. With a determined cry, he threw the porcelain mask at the cave wall, it's shattered fragments bouncing here and there. "Is this what you wanted? A toy! Well, _monsieur," _he shot angrily at the ceiling. "It's about time you end this. This game has lost it's meaning and now I demand you take me out of this… this…" he thought for a moment, racking his brain for the perfect description.

Nothing horrible enough would come to mind. "Have I already died? Already passed as an unworthy atheist in your eyes and have thrown in to the bowels of hell? If not, it sure as hell feels like it!" 'it' echoed around the room, his empty voice a void for depression. "Free me… I can't do this by myself…" His tired eyes blurred in and out of focus till they closed all together.

"Mon dieu! Haven't you seen enough of this monster?" He breathed in slowly, the pain of his fingers coming back all together to tear at the nerves in his finger. He ignored their pleas and bit in to his lip until it bled. "Her love has killed me. I can never move on." He whispered, voice slipping into silence. His breathing slowed, eyelids wavering until they floated shut in to the blackness of his mind.

A beautiful woman, curling brown hair that shimmered in dim light, pale pink skin that shone over with glossy tears, a full mouth that whispered in a melodious voice that warmed even the most unspeakably coldest regions of his heart. "Christine…" he mouthed, failing to lift his hand to her tear stained face.

His entire body was numb with the cold, leaving him useless to stop the angel who graced his presence from leaving. Nausea flooded over him and he passed out with a final, pitiful moan of agony. He awoke later to a gut wrenching head ache and crusty, crimson fingers. A grim grin crossed his unmasked face as he sat up, looking for his missing counter part.

Torpidly, he reached beside him to grab his icy mask, only to find attached, a single parchment note. Green eyes popped open from their woozy stupor, mouth parted in an awe stricken gasp. "It was no dream! She was here… but why?" He lifted the note with a sense of excitement and dread. **God forbid she would try and take her life again. No that can't be it. She promised me. **He thought sadly, ripping through the wax seal.

**Tell me you love me, perhaps?** He brushed this thought away quickly, as if it had never entered his mind. He unfolded the damp parchment and read aloud to himself:

"Erik,

When you receive this note, do not be alarmed by my forwardness, but I will be dead." His spirit dropped in dull horror, yet his face remained ominous stone. "I knew this moment would come sooner or later, so I decided to leave you a little gift from the beyond. Now Erik, I've never really told you this and never really need to, it showed in every glance I gave you, but, you are one stubborn bastard." He smirked at the paper sarcastically. **You always had a way with words Antoinette. **"You really are, but I still loved you as if you were my brother. Now pay this letter heed, I'm not so incredibly blind that I Haven't noticed the way you react when I say Mlle. Daae's name. Twitchy, sorrowful, and twice as secretive. Also, I've noticed how she behaves when ever I bring you up. She loves you Erik, more than she felt with that De Changy fellow. Don't scoff at this either Monsieur Fantôme! She may think she is good at being sneaky about these things, but truth be told, she is barely an armature. My poor girl… No that I'm gone, I want you to go back to being her Angel of Music, the Phantom she loves so desperately. Don't you dare even think about ignoring me Monsieur! I can already see that sneer coming on, recevoir sur le. I won't have my Christine suffer all her life because you two can't see this simple truth. She is like my daughter Erik, treat her well. As you know, she is fragile and slightly thick headed. Like you, she won't except the truth unless it kills her first. You have to teach it to her slowly. Save her from De Changy. I have a feeling that she isn't the only object of his gluttonous desires. Partir now mon ami, whilst you still have the chance! Antoinette Giry."

The note fell out of his hand in to his lap as he rested his head on his knee. He shut his eyes, thinking furiously. He had cried every last tear he beheld, now was time to take action. After hearing this from his most trusted friend, he finally believed. An evil glint lit his eye, mischievous and familiar to his past of robbing terrified managers, sneaking up and scaring the ballet rats sort of glint.

This time, she would not escape the clutches of the Phantom of the Opera!

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It began to drizzle right before her funeral, the gray droplets floating down to streak the face of the teary eyed Mademoiselle Daae. A little tear escaped from their chocolate prisons as she gazed out the carriage window. "Don't cry, mon cheire.

Go ahead and be mad that I haven't updated all this time, and when I do it's just this little tiny thing. sighs I'll add longer entries later. hope you like it.


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